VAILIMA    LETTERS 


VAILIMA  LETTERS 

BEING    CORRESPONDENCE 

ADDRESSED    BY 

ROBERT    LOUIS    STEVENSON 

TO 

SIDNEY    COLVIN 

NOVEMBER,  1890— OCOTBER,  1894 

IN    TWO    VOLUMES 
VOL.    I. 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1906 


COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
STONE    AND     KIMBALL 


i  i  i  T*5 

^ 


?0fc 

CONT^N'TS. 

VOL.  I. 


FACE 

EDITORIAL  NOTE  n 

LETTER 

I.    NOVEMBER,  1890  27 

II.    NOVEMBER  25 —  DECEMBER  2,  1890  57 

III.  DECEMBER,  1890  72 

IV.  JANUARY   17,  1891  91 
V.    FEBRUARY,  1891  97 

VI.    MARCH,  1891  102 

VII.    APRIL,  1891  118 

VIII.    APRIL  29  —  MAY  19,  1891  124 

IX.    JUNE,  1891  134 

X.  SEPTEMBER,  1891  141 

XI.  SEPTEMBER  28  —  OCTOBER  13,  1891  158 

XII.  OCTOBER,  1891  169 

XIII.  NOVEMBER  25  —  DECEMBER  7,  1891  181 

XIV.  DECEMBER,  1891 — JANUARY  3,  1892  194 
XV.  JANUARY  31  —  FEBRUARY,  1892  217 

XVI.  FEBRUARY  —  MARCH  2,  1892  223 

XVII.  MARCH  9  —  MARCH  30,  1892  235 
XVIII.  MAY  i  — MAY  27,  1892  250 


The  Frontispiece  is  a  portrait  of  R.  L.  Steve?ison  etched  by 
W.  Strang  after  a  photograph  by  Falk,  of  Sydney. 


EDITORIAL   NOTE. 

So  much  of  preface  seems  necessary  to 
this  volume  as  may  justify  its  publication 
and  explain  its  origin.  The  writer  was  for 
many  years  my  closest  friend.  It  was  in 
the  summer  of  1873  that  a  lady,  whose 
gracious  influence  has  helped  to  shape  and 
encourage  more  than  one  distinguished 
career,  first  awakened  my  interest  in  him 
and  drew  us  together.  He  was  at  that 
time  a  lad  of  twenty-two,  with  his  powers 
not  yet  set  nor  his  way  of  life  determined. 
But  to  know  him  was  to  recognize  at  once 
that  here  was  a  young  genius  of  whom 
great  things  might  be  expected.  A  slender, 
boyish  presence,  with  a  graceful,  some- 
what fantastic  bearing,  and  a  singular 
power  and  attraction  in  the  eyes  and  smile, 
were  the  signs  that  first  impressed  you; 
and  the  impression  was  quickly  confirmed 


12  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

and  deepened  by  the  charm  of  his  talk, 
which  was  irresistibly  sympathetic  and 
inspiring,  and  not  less  full  of  matter  than 
of  mirth.  I  have  known  no  man  in  whom 
the  poet's  heart  and  imagination  were  com- 
bined with  such  a  brilliant  strain  of  humor 
and  such  an  unsleeping  alertness  and 
adroitness  of  the  critical  intelligence. 
But  it  was  only  in  conversation  that  he 
could  as  yet  do  himself  justice.  His 
earliest  efforts  in  literature  were  of  a  very 
uneven  and  tentative  quality.  The  reason 
partly  was  that  in  mode  of  expression  and 
choice  of  language,  not  less  than  in  the 
formation  of  opinion  and  the  conduct  of 
life,  he  was  impatient,  even  to  excess,  of 
the  conventional,  the  accepted,  and  the 
trite.  His  perceptions  and  emotions  were 
acute  and  vivid  in  the  extreme;  his  judg- 
ments, whether  founded  on  experience, 
reading,  discussion,  or  caprice  (and  a  sur- 
prising amount  of  all  these  things  had 
been  crowded  into  his  youthful  existence) 
were  not  less  fresh  and  personal;  while  to 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  13 

his  ardent  fancy  the  world  was  a  theatre 
glowing  with  the  lights  and  bustling  with 
the  incidents  of  romance.  To  find  for  all 
he  had  to  say  words  of  vital  aptness  and 
animation  —  to  communicate  as  much  as 
possible  of  what  he  has  somewhere  called 
"the  incommunicable  thrill  of  things"  — 
was  from  the  first  his  endeavor  in  literature, 
—  nay  more,  it  was  the  main  passion  of  his 
life.  The  instrument  that  should  serve  his 
purpose  could  not  be  forged  in  haste,  still 
less  could  it  be  adopted  at  second  hand  or 
ready  made;  and  he  has  himself  narrated 
how  long  and  toilsome  was  the  apprentice- 
ship he  served. 

In  those  days,  then,  of  Stevenson's 
youth  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  of  use 
to  him,  partly  by  helping  to  soften  paren- 
tal opposition  to  his  inborn  vocation  for 
letters,  partly  by  recommending  him  to 
editors  (Mr.  Hamerton,  Sir  George  Grove, 
and  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  in  succession), 
and  a  little  even  by  such  technical  hints  as 
a  classical  training  and  five  years'  senior- 


14  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

ity  enabled  me  to  give.  It  belonged  to 
the  richness  of  his  nature  to  repay  in  all 
things  much  for  little,  e/caro/jifiot  evveaftoi'cov, 
and  from  these  early  relations  sprang  both 
the  affection,  to  me  inestimable,  of  which 
the  following  correspondence  bears  evi- 
dence, and  the  habit,  which  it  pleased  him 
to  maintain  after  he  had  become  one  of  the 
acknowledged  masters  of  English  letters, 
of  confiding  in  and  consulting  me  about 
his  work  in  progress.  It  was  my  business 
to  find  fault;  to  "damn"  what  I  did  not 
like;,  a  duty  which,  as  will  be  inferred 
from  the  following  pages,  I  was  accustomed 
to  discharge  somewhat  unsparingly.  But 
he  was  too  manly  a  spirit  to  desire  or  to 
relish  flattery,  and  too  true  an  artist  to  be 
content  with  doing  less  than  his  best:  he 
knew,  moreover,  in  what  rank  of  English 
writers  I  put  him,  and  for  what  audience, 
not  of  to-day,  I  would  have  him  labor. 
Tibi  Palinure  —  so,  in  the  last  weeks  of 
his  life,  he  proposed  to  inscribe  to  me  a 
set  of  his  collected  works.  Not  Palinurus 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  15 

so  much  as  Polonius  may  perhaps  —  or  so 
I  sometimes  suspect  —  have  been  really 
the  character;  but  his  own  amiable  view  of 
the  matter  has  to  be  mentioned  in  order  to 
account  for  part  of  the  tenor  of  the  follow- 
ing correspondence. 

As  a  letter-writer,  Mr.  Stevenson  was 
punctilious  in  business  matters  (herein 
putting  some  violence  on  his  nature),  in- 
defatigable where  there  was  a  service  to 
be  requited  or  a  kindness  done,  and  to 
strangers  and  slight  acquaintances  ever 
courteous  and  attentive.  I  am  not  sure, 
indeed,  but  that  in  this  capacity  it  was  the 
outer  and  not  the  inner  circle  of  his  corre- 
spondents who,  speaking  generally,  had 
the  best  of  him.  To  his  intimate  friends 
he  wrote  charmingly  indeed  by  fits,  but 
often,  at  least  in  early  days,  in  a  manner 
not  a  little  trying  and  tantalizing.  With 
these,  his  correspondence  was  apt  to  be  a 
thing  wholly  of  moods.  "Sordid  facts,"  as 
he  called  them,  were  almost  never  men- 
tioned :  date  and  place  one  could  never 


1 6  VAIL1MA   LETTERS. 

infer  except  from  the  postmark.  He  would 
exclaim  over  some  predicament  to  the 
nature  of  which  he  gave  no  clue  whatever, 
or  appeal  for  sympathy  in  circumstances 
impossible  to  conjecture;  or,  starting  in  a 
key  of  vague  poetry  and  sentiment,  would 
wind  up  (in  a  manner  characteristic  also  of 
his  talk)  with  a  rhapsody  of  hyperbolical 
slang.  Or  he  would  dilate  on  some  new 
phase  of  his  many  maladies  with  burlesque 
humor, —with  complaint  never;  but  what 
had  been  the  nature  of  the  attack  you  were 
left  to  wonder  and  guess  in  vain.  During 
the  period  of  his  Odyssey  in  the  South 
Seas,  from  August,  1888,  until  the  spring 
of  1890,  the  remoteness  and  inaccessibility 
of  the  scenes  he  visited  inevitably  inter- 
rupted all  correspondence  for  months 
together;  and  when  at  long  intervals  a 
packet  reached  us,  the  facts  and  circum- 
stances of  his  wanderings  were  to  be 
gathered  from  the  admirable  letters  of  Mrs. 
Stevenson  (who  has  this  feminine  accom- 
plishment in  perfection)  rather  than  from 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  I/ 

his  own.  But  when  later  in  the  last- 
mentioned  year  1890,  he  and  his  family 
were  settled  on  their  newly  bought  property 
on  the  mountain  behind  Apia,  to  which  he 
gave  the  name  of  Vailima  (five  rivers),  he 
for  the  first  time,  to  my  infinite  gratifica- 
tion, took  to  writing  me  long  and  regular 
monthly  budgets  as  full  and  particular  as 
heart  could  wish;  and  this  practice  he 
maintained  until  within  a  few  weeks  of  his 
death. 

It  is  these  journal-letters  from  Samoa, 
covering  with  a  few  intervals  the  period 
from  November,  1890,  to  October,  1894, 
that  are  printed  by  themselves  in  the 
present  volume.  They  occupy  a  place,  as 
has  been  indicated,  quite  apart  in  his  cor- 
respondence, and  in  any  general  selection 
from  his  letters  would  fill  a  quite  dispro- 
portionate space.  Begun  without  a  thought 
of  publicity,  and  simply  to  maintain  our 
intimacy  undiminished,  so  far  as  might  be, 
by  separation,  they  assumed  in  the  course 
of  two  or  three  years  a  bulk  so  consider- 


1 8  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

able,  and  contained  so  much  of  the  matter 
of  his  daily  life  and  thoughts,  that  it  by  and 
by  occurred  to  him,  as  may  be  read  on  page 
38  of  vol.  ii.,  that  "some  kind  of  a  book" 
might  be  extracted  out  of  them  after  his 
death.  It  is  this  passage  which  has  given 
me  my  warrant  for  their  publication,  and  at 
the  same  time  has  imposed  on  me  no  very 
easy  editorial  task.  In  a  correspondence 
so  unreserved,  the  duty  of  suppression  and 
selection  must  needs  be  delicate.  Belong- 
ing to  the  race  of  Scott  and  Dumas,  of  the 
romantic  narrators  and  creators,  Stevenson 
belonged  no  less  to  that  of  Montaigne  and 
the  literary  egotists.  The  word  seems  out 
of  place,  since  of  egotism  in  the  sense  of 
vanity  or  selfishness  he  was  of  all  men  the 
most  devoid;  but  he  was  nevertheless  a 
watchful  and  ever  interested  observer  of 
the  motions  of  his  own  mind.  He  saw 
himself,  as  he  saw  everything  else  (to 
borrow  the  words  of  Mr.  Andrew  Lang), 
with  the  lucidity  of  genius,  and  loved  to 
put  himself  on  terms  of  confidence  with 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  19 

his  readers;  but  of  confidence  kept  always 
within  fit  limits,  and  permitting  no  undue 
intrusion  into  his  private  affairs  and  feel- 
ings. To  maintain  the  same  limits  in  the 
editing  of  an  intimate  correspondence  after 
his  death  would  have  been  impossible.  I 
have  tried  to  do  my  best  under  the  circum- 
stances;  to  suffer  no  feelings  to  be  hurt 
that  could  be  spared,  and  only  to  lift  the 
veil  of  family  life  so  far  as  under  the  con- 
ditions was  unavoidable.  Neither  would  it 
have  been  possible  from  such  a  correspond- 
ence to  expunge  the  record  of  those  triv- 
ialities which  make  up  the  chief  part  of 
life,  even  in  surroundings  so  romantic  and 
unusual  as  Stevenson  in  these  years  had 
chosen  for  himself.  It  belonged  to  the 
personal  charm  of  the  man  that  nothing 
ever  seemed  commonplace  or  insignificant 
in  his  company;  but  in  correspondence 
this  charm  must  needs  to  some  extent 
evaporate. 

Such  as  they  remain,  then,  these  letters 
will    be   found    a  varied    record,    perfectly 


20  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

frank  and  familiar,  of  the  writer's  every- 
day moods,  thoughts,  and  doings  during 
his  Samoan  exile.  They  tell,  with  the 
zest  and  often  in  the  language  of  a  man 
who  remained  to  the  last  a  boy  in  spirit, 
of  the  pleasures  and  troubles  of  a  planter 
founding  his  home  in  the  virgin  soil  of 
a  tropical  island;  the  pleasures  of  an  in- 
valid beginning  after  many  years  to  re- 
sume habits  of  outdoor  life  and  exercise; 
the  toils  and  satisfactions,  failures  and 
successes,  of  a  creative  artist  whose  inven- 
tion was  as  fertile  as  his  standards  were 
high  and  his  industry  unflinching.  These 
divers  characters  have  probably  never  been 
so  united  in  any  man  before.  Something 
also  they  tell  of  the  inward  movements 
and  affections  of  one  of  the  bravest  and 
tenderest  of  human  hearts.  One  part  of 
his  life,  it  should  be  said,  which  his  other 
letters  will  fully  reveal,  finds  little  expres- 
sion in  these,  namely,  the  relations  of  cor- 
dial and  ungrudging  kindness  in  which  he 
stood  towards  the  younger  generation  of 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  21 

writers  at  home,  including  those  person- 
ally unknown  to  him.  Neither  do  ordinary 
impressions  of  travel, —  impressions  of  the 
beauties  of  the  tropics  and  the  capitivating 
strangeness  of  the  island  people  and  their 
ways, — fill  much  space  in  them.  These 
things  were  no  longer  new  to  the  writer 
when  the  correspondence  began;  they  had 
been  part  of  the  element  of  his  life  since 
the  day,  near  two  years  before,  when  his 
yacht  first  anchored  in  the  Bay  of  Nukahiva, 
and  his  soul,  to  quote  his  own  words, 
"went  down  with  these  moorings  whence 
no  windlass  may  extract  nor  any  diver  fish 
it  up;  and  I,  and  some  part  of  my  ship's 
company,  were  from  that  hour  the  bond- 
slaves of  the  isles  of  Vivien."  In  their 
stead  we  find,  what  to  some  readers  may  be 
hardly  so  welcome,  the  observations  of  a 
close  student  of  native  life,  history,  and 
manners,  and  some  of  the  perplexities  and 
preoccupations  of  an  island  politician. 

The  political  allusions  are  seldom  in  the 
form  of  direct  statement  or  narrative.     To 


22  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

understand  them,  the  reader  must  bear  in 
mind  a  few  main  facts,  which  I  shall  state 
as  briefly  and  plainly  as  possible.  At  the 
date  when  Stevenson  settled  in  Samoa,  the 
government  of  the  island  had  lately  been 
settled  between  the  three  powers  interested, 
namely,  Germany,  England,  and  the  United 
States,  at  the  convention  of  Berlin.  Under 
this  convention,  Malietoa  Laupepa,  who 
had  previously  been  deposed  and  de- 
ported by  the  Germans  in  favor  of  a 
nominee  of  their  own,  was  reinstated  as 
king,  to  the  exclusion  of  his  kinsman,  the 
powerful  and  popular  Mataafa,  whose  titles 
might  be  held  equally  good,  and  whose 
abilities  were  certainly  greater,  but  who 
was  specially  obnoxious  to  the  Germans, 
owing  to  his  resistance  to  them  during  the 
troubles  of  the  previous  years.  For  a  time, 
the  two  kinsmen,  Laupepa  and  Mataafa, 
lived  on  amicable  terms;  but  presently 
differences  arose  between  them.  Mataafa 
had  expected  to  occupy  a  position  of  in- 
fluence in  the  government;  finding  him- 


EDITORIAL   NOTE.  23 

self  ignored,  he  withdrew  to  a  camp  a  few 
miles  outside  the  town  of  Apia,  where  he 
lived  in  semi-royal  state  as  a  kind  of  pas- 
sive rebel  or  rival  to  the  recognized  king. 
In  the  mean  time,  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1891,  the  two  white  officials  appointed 
under  the  Berlin  Convention,  namely,  the 
Chief  Justice,  a  Swedish  gentleman  named 
Cedarkrantz,  and  the  President  of  the 
Council,  Baron  Senfft  von  Pilsach,  had 
come  out  to  the  islands  and  entered  on 
their  duties.  In  Stevenson's  judgment 
these  gentlemen  proved  quite  unequal  to 
their  task,  —  an  opinion  which  before  long 
came  to  be  shared  and  acted  on  by  the 
Foreign  Offices  of  the  three  powers  under 
whom  they  were  appointed.  Stevenson 
was  no  abstracted  student  or  dreamer;  the 
human  interests  and  the  human  duties 
lying  immediately  about  him  were  ever  the 
first  in  his  eyes;  and,  petty  and  remote  as 
these  island  concerns  may  appear  to  us, 
they  were  for  him  near  and  urgent.  A 
man  of  his  eager  nature  and  persuasive 


24  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

powers  must  naturally  acquire  influence  in 
any  community  in  which  he  may  be  thrown, 
and  among  the  natives  in  especial  by  kind- 
ness, justice,  and  a  sympathetic  understand- 
ing of  their  ways  and  characters  he  soon 
came  to  enjoy  a  singular  degree  of  authority. 
His  unauthorized  intervention  in  public 
matters  may  have  been  of  a  nature  dis- 
concerting to  the  official  mind,  but  his 
purposes  were  at  all  times  those  of  a 
peacemaker.  The  steady  aim  of  his  efforts 
was  to  bring  about  the  withdrawal  of  the 
two  discredited  white  officials  (against 
whom,  it  will  be  seen,  he  had  no  personal 
animus  whatever)  and  to  procure  a  recon- 
ciliation between  Laupepa  and  Mataafa, 
so  that  the  latter  might  exercise  the  share 
in  the  government  due  to  his  character, 
titles,  and  following.  The  first  part  of 
this  policy  commended  itself  after  a  time  to 
the  three  powers  and  their  agents,  and  was 
carried  out;  the  second  not;  and  his  friend 
Mataafa  was  by  and  by  attacked  by  the  forces 
of  Laupepa,  beaten,  and  sent  into  exile. 


EDITORIAL  NOTE.  2$ 

In  reading  the  following  pages  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind  that  Mulinuu  and  Malie, 
the  places  respectively  of  Laupepa's  and 
Mataafa's  residence,  are  also  used  to 
signify  their  respective  parties  and  follow- 
ings.  The  reader  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  identifying  the  various  personages  com- 
posing the  family  group  whose  names  occur 
constantly  in  the  correspondence,  namely, 
the  writer's  mother,  his  wife  ("  Fanny  "),  his 
stepson,  Mr.  Lloyd  Osbourne  ("  Lloyd  "), 
his  step-daughter  and  amanuensis,  Mrs. 
Strong  ("  Belle "),  and  her  young  son 
("Austin").  Explanation  of  any  other 
matters  seeming  to  require  it  is  added  in 
the  footnotes. 

S.   C. 

August,  1895. 


In  the  Mountain,  Apia,  Samoa, 
Monday,  November  2d,  1890. 

MY  DEAR  COLVIX,  — This  is  a  hard  and  1890 
interesting  and  beautiful  life  that  we  lead 
now.  Our  place  is  in  a  deep  cleft  of  Vaea 
Mountain,  some  six  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea,  embowered  in  forest,  which  is  our 
strangling  enemy,  and  which  we  combat 
with  axes  and  dollars.  I  went  crazy  over 
outdoor  work,  and  had  at  last  to  confine 
myself  to  the  house,  or  literature  must 
have  gone  by  the  board.  Nothing  is  so 
interesting  as  weeding,  clearing,  and  path- 
making;  the  oversight  of  laborers  becomes 
a  disease;  it  is  quite  an  effort  not  to  drop 
into  the  farmer;  and  it  does  make  you  feel 
so  well.  To  come  down  covered  with 
mud  and  drenched  with  sweat  and  rain 
after  some  hours  in  the  bush,  change,  rub 
down,  and  take  a  chair  in  the  veranda,  is 


28  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890    to    taste    a    quiet    conscience.     And    the 

Nov. 

strange  thing  that  I  mark  is  this:  If  I 
go  out  and  make  sixpence,  bossing  my 
labourers  and  plying  the  cutlass  or  the 
spade,  idiot  conscience  applauds  me;  if  I 
sit  in  the  house  and  make  twenty  pounds, 
idiot  conscience  wails  over  my  neglect  and 
the  day  wasted.  For  near  a  fortnight  I 
did  not  go  beyond  the  verandah;  then  I 
found  my  rush  of  work  run  out,  and  went 
down  for  the  night  to  Apia;  put  in  Sunday 
afternoon  with  our  consul,  "a  nice  young 
man,"  dined  with  my  friend  H.  J.  Moors  in 
the  evening,  went  to  church  —  no  less  —  at 
the  white  and  half -white  church  —  I  had 
never  been  before,  and  was  much  inter- 
ested; the  woman  I  sat  next  looked  a.  iu\\- 
blood  native,  and  it  was  in  the  prettiest 
and  readiest  English  that  she  sang  the 
hymns;  back  to  Moors',  where  we  yarned 
of  the  islands,  being  both  wide  wanderers, 
till  bed-time;  bed,  sleep,  breakfast,  horse 
saddled ;  round  to  the  mission,  to  get  Mr. 
Clarke  to  be  my  interpreter;  over  with 


VAILIMA  LETTERS.  29 

him  to  the  King's,  whom  I  have  not  called  1890 
on  since  my  return;  received  by  that  mild 
old  gentleman;  have  some  interesting  talk 
with  him  about  Samoan  superstitions  and 
my  land  —  the  scene  of  a  great  battle  in 
his  (Malietoa  Laupepa's)  youth  —  the  place 
which  we  have  cleared  the  platform  of  his 
fort  —  the  gulley  of  the  stream  full  of  dead 
bodies  —  the  fight  rolled  off  up  Vaea 
mountain-side;  back  with  Clarke  to  the 
Mission;  had  a  bit  of  lunch  and  consulted 
over  a  queer  point  of  missionary  policy 
just  arisen,  about  our  new  Town  Hall  and 
the  balls  there  —  too  long  to  go  into,  but  a 
quaint  example  of  the  intricate  questions 
which  spring  up  daily  in  the  missionary 
path.1 

1  "  In  the  missionary  work  which  is  being  done  among 
the  Samoans,  Mr.  Stevenson  was  especially  interested. 
He  was  an  observant,  shrewd,  yet  ever  generous  critic 
of  all  our  religious  and  educational  organisations.  His 
knowledge  of  native  character  and  life  enabled  him  to 
understand  missionary  difficulties,  while  his  genial  con- 
tact with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  made  him  keen 
to  detect  deficiencies  in  men  and  methods,  and  apt  in 
useful  suggestion."  The  above  is  the  testimony  of  the 


30  VAILLMA   LETTERS. 

^890  Then  off  up  the  hill;  Jack  very  fresh, 
the  sun  (close  on  noon)  staring  hot,  the 
breeze  very  strong  and  pleasant;  the  in- 
effable green  country  all  round  —  gorgeous 
little  birds  (I  think  they  are  humming- 
birds, but  they  say  not)  skirmishing  in  the 
wayside  flowers.  About  a  quarter  way  up 
I  met  a  native  coming  down  with  the  trunk 
of  a  cocoa  palm  across  his  shoulder;  his 
brown  breast  glittering  with  sweat  and  oil : 
"Talofa  "  —  "Talofa,  alii  —  You  see  that 
white  man?  He  speak  for  you."  "White 
man  he  gone  up  here?  "  —  "  loe  (Yes)  "  — 
"  Tofa,  alii  "  —  "  Tofa,  soifua !  "  I  put  on 
Jack  up  the  steep  path,  till  he  is  all  as 
white  as  shaving  stick  —  Brown's  euxesis, 
wish  I  had  some  —  past  Tanugamanono,  a 
bush  village  —  see  into  the  houses  as  I 
pass  —  they  are  open  sheds  scattered  on  a 
green  —  see  the  brown  folk  sitting  there, 

Mr.  Clarke  here  mentioned  (Rev.  W.  E.  Clarke  of  the 
London  Missionary  Society).  This  gentleman  was  from 
the  first  one  of  the  most  valued  friends  of  Mr.  Stevenson 
and  his  family  in  Samoa,  and  when  the  end  came,  read 
the  funeral  service  beside  his  grave  on  Mount  Vaea. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  31 

suckling  kids,  sleeping  on  their  stiff  '890 
wooden  pillows  —  then  on  through  the  wood 
path  —  and  here  I  find  the  mysterious  white 
man  (poor  devil!)  with  his  twenty  years' 
certificate  of  good  behaviour  as  a  book- 
keeper, frozen  out  by  the  strikes  in  the 
colonies,  come  up  here  on  a  chance,  no 
work  to  be  found,  big  hotel  bill,  no  ship 
to  leave  in  —  and  come  up  to  beg  twenty 
dollars  because  he  heard  I  was  a  Scotch- 
man, offering  to  leave  his  portmanteau  in 
pledge.  Settle  this,  and  on  again;  and 
here  my  house  comes  in  view,  and  a  war 
whoop  fetches  my  wife  and  Henry  (or 
Simele),  our  Samoan  boy,  on  the  front 
balcony;  and  I  am  home  again,  and  only 
sorry  that  I  shall  have  to  go  down  again  to 
Apia  this  day  week.  I  could,  and  would, 
dwell  here  unmoved,  but  there  are  things 
to  be  attended  to. 

Never  say  I  don't  give  you  details  and 
news.     That  is  a  picture  of  a  letter. 

I  have  been  hard  at  work  since  I  came; 
three  chapters  of   The    Wrecker,  and  since 


32  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  that,    eight  of   the   South    Sea   book,    and 

Nov. 

along  and  about  and  in  between,  a  hatful  of 
verses.  Some  day  I  '11  send  the  verse  to 
you,  and  you  '11  say  if  any  of  it  is  any 
good.  I  have  got  in  a  better  vein  with  the 
South  Sea  book,  as  I  think  you  will  see; 
I  think  these  chapters  will  do  for  the 
volume  without  much  change.  Those  that 
I  did  in  the  Janet  Nicoll,  under  the  most 
ungodly  circumstances,  I  fear  will  want  a 
lot  of  suppling  and  lightening,  but  I  hope 
to  have  your  remarks  in  a  month  or  two 
upon  that  point.  It  seems  a  long  while 
since  I  have  heard  from  you.  I  do  hope 
you  are  well.  I  am  wonderful,  but  tired 
from  so  much  work;  'tis  really  immense 
what  I  have  done;  in  the  South  Sea  book 
I  have  fifty  pages  copied  fair,  some  of 
which  has  been  four  times,  and  all  twice 
written  ;  certainly  fifty  pages  of  solid  scriv- 
ing  inside  a  fortnight,  but  I  was  at  it  by 
seven  A.  M.  till  lunch,  and  from  two  till 
four  or  five  every  day ;  between  whiles, 
verse  and  blowing  on  the  flageolet;  never 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  33 

outside.     If  you  could  see  this  place!  but    l89° 

Nov 

I  don't  want  any  one  to  see  it  till  my 
clearing  is  done,  and  my  house  built.  It 
will  be  a  home  for  angels. 

So  far  I  wrote  after  my  bit  of  dinner, 
some  cold  meat  and  bananas,  on  arrival. 
Then  out  to  see  where  Henry  and  seme  of 
the  men  were  clearing  the  garden;  for  it 
was  plain  there  was  to  be  no  work  to-day 
indoors,  and  I  must  set  in  consequence  to 
farmering.  I  stuck  a  good  while  on  the 
way  up,  for  the  path  there  is  largely  my 
own  handiwork,  and  there  were  a  lot  of 
sprouts  and  saplings  and  stcnes  to  te 
removed.  Then  I  reached  our  clearing 
just  where  the  streams  join  in  one;  it  had 
a  fine  autumn  smell  of  burning,  the  smoke 
blew  in  the  woods,  and  the  boys  were 
pretty  merry  and  busy.  Now  I  had  a 
private  design:  — 

The  Vaita'e  I  had  explored  pretty  far 
up;  not  yet  the  other  stream,  the  Vaituliga 
(g  =  nasal  n,  as  ng  in  sing);  and  up  that, 
with  my  wood  knife,  I  set  off  alone.  It  is 


34 


VAILIMA   LETTERS. 


1890  here  quite  dry;  it  went  through  endless 
woods;  about  as  broad  as  a  Devonshire 
lane,  here  and  there  crossed  by  fallen 
trees;  huge  trees  overhead  in  the  sun, 
dripping  lianas  and  tufted  with  orchids, 
tree  ferns,  ferns  depending  with  air  roots 
from  the  steep  banks,  great  arums  —  I  had 


not  skill  enough  to  say  if  any  of  them  were 
the  edible  kind,  one  of  our  staples  here! 
—  hundreds  of  bananas  —  another  staple  — 
and  alas!  I  had  skill  enough  to  know  all 
of  these  for  the  bad  kind  that  bears  no 
fruit.  My  Henry  moralised  over  this  the 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  35 

other  day;  how  hard  it  was  that  the  bad  1890 
banana  flourished  wild,  and  the  good  must 
be  weeded  and  tended ;  and  I  had  not  the 
heart  to  tell  him  how  fortunate  they  were 
here,  and  how  hungry  were  other  lands  by 
comparison.  The  ascent  of  this  lovely 
lane  of  my  dry  stream  filled  me  with 
delight.  I  could  not  but  be  reminded  of 
old  Mayne  Reid,  as  I  have  been  more  than 
once  since  I  came  to  the  tropics;  and  I 
thought,  if  Reid  had  been  still  living,  I 
would  have  written  to  tell  him  that,  for 
me,  it  had  come  true;  and  I  thought, 
forbye,  that,  if  the  great  powers  go  on  as 
they  are  going,  and  the  Chief  Justice 
delays,  it  would  come  truer  still;  and  the 
war-conch  will  sound  in  the  hills,  and  n:y 
home  will  be  enclosed  in  camps,  before  the 
year  is  ended.  And  all  at  once  —  mark 
you,  how  Mayne  Reid  is  on  the  spot  —  a 
strange  thing  happened.  I  saw  a  liana 
stretch  across  the  bed  of  the  brook  about 
breast-high,  swung  up  my  knife  to  sever  it, 
and  —  behold,  it  was  a  wire!  On  either 


36  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  hand  it  plunged  into  thick  bush;  to- 
morrow I  shall  see  where  it  goes  and  get  a 
guess  perhaps  of  what  it  means.  To-day  I 
know  no  more  than  —  there  it  is.  A  little 
higher  the  brook  began  to  trickle,  then  to 
fill.  At  last,  as  I  meant  to  do  some  work 
upon  the  homeward  trail,  it  was  time  to 
turn.  I  did  not  return  by  the  stream ; 
knife  in  hand,  as  long  as  my  endurance 
lasted,  I  was  to  cut  a  path  in  the  congested 
bush. 

At  first  it  went  ill  with  me ;  I  got  badly 
stung  as  high  as  the  elbows  by  the  stinging 
plant;  I  was  nearly  hung  in  a  tough  liana 
—  a  rotten  trunk  giving  way  under  my 
feet;  it  was  deplorable  bad  business.  And 
an  axe — if  I  dared  swing  one  —  would 
have  been  more  to  the  purpose  than  my 
cutlass.  Of  a  sudden  things  began  to  go 
strangely  easier;  I  found  stumps,  bushing 
out  again;  my  body  began  to  wonder, 
then  my  mind;  I  raised  my  eyes  and 
looked  ahead;  and,  by  George,  I  was  no 
longer  pioneering,  I  had  struck  an  old 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  37 

track  overgrown,  and  was  restoring  an  old    l89<3 

Nov. 

path.  So  I  laboured  till  I  was  in  such  a 
state  that  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Skeggs 
could  scarce  have  found  a  name  for  it. 
Thereon  desisted;  returned  to  the  stream; 
made  my  way  down  that  stony  track  to  the 
garden,  where  the  smoke  was  still  hanging 
and  the  sun  was  still  in  the  high  tree-tops, 
and  so  home.  Here,  fondly  supposing  my 
long  day  was  over,  I  rubbed  down;  exqui- 
site agony;  water  spreads  the  poison  of 
these  weeds;  I  got  it  all  over  my  hands, 
on  my  chest,  in  my  eyes,  and  presently, 
while  eating  an  orange,  a  la  Raratonga, 
burned  my  lip  and  eye  with  orange  juice. 
Now,  all  day,  our  three  small  pigs  had 
been  adrift,  to  the  mortal  peril  of  our 
corn,  lettuce,  onions,  etc.,  and  as  I  stood 
smarting  on  the  back  verandah,  behold  the 
three  piglings  issuing  from  the  wood  just 
opposite.  Instantly  I  got  together  as 
many  boys  as  I  could  —  three,  and  got  the 
pigs  penned  against  the  rampart  of  the  sty, 
till  the  others  joined;  whereupon  we 


38  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  formed  a  cordon,  closed,  captured  the 
deserters,  and  dropped  them,  squeaking 
amain,  into  their  strengthened  barracks 
where,  please  God,  they  may  now  stay ! 

Perhaps  you  may  suppose  the  day  now 
over;  you  are  not  the  head  of  a  plantation, 
my  juvenile  friend.  Politics  succeeded : 
Henry  got  adrift  in  his  English,  Bene  was 
too  cowardly  to  tell  me  what  he  was  after : 
result,  I  have  lost  seven  good  labourers, 
and  had  to  sit  down  and  write  to  you  to 
keep  my  temper.  Let  me  sketch  my  lads. 

—  Henry  —  Henry  has  gone  down  to  town 
or  I   could  not  be   writing   to   you  —  this 
were  the  hour  of  his  English  lesson  else, 
when  he  learns  what  he  calls  "  long  exples- 
sions "  or  "your  chief's  language"  for  the 
matter  of  an  hour  and  a  half  —  Henry  is  a 
chiefling  from    Savaii;    I   once    loathed,    I 
now   like  and  —  pending  fresh  discoveries 

—  have  a  kind  of  respect  for  Henry.      He 
does   good  work  for   us;  goes   among  the 
labourers,    bossing   and    watching;     helps 
Fanny;  is  civil,  kindly,  thoughtful;    O  si 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  39 

sic  semper!     But  will  he  be  "his  sometime    '£90 

ISov. 

self  throughout  the  year  "  ?  Anyway,  he 
has  deserved  of  us,  and  he  must  disappoint 
me  sharply  ere  I  give  him  up.  —  Bene  —  or 
Peni  —  Ben,  in  plain  English  —  is  supposed 
to  be  my  ganger;  the  Lord  love  him  !  God 
made  a  truckling  coward,  there  is  his  full 
history.  He  cannot  tell  me  what  he  wants; 
he  dares  not  tell  me  what  is  wrong;  he 
dares  not  transmit  my  orders  or  translate 
my  censures.  And  with  all  this,  honest, 
sober,  industrious,  miserably  smiling  over 
the  miserable  issue  of  his  own  unmanliness. 

—  Paul  —  a  German  —  cook   and    steward 

—  a  glutton  of  work  —  a  splendid  fellow; 
drawbacks,   three:  (i)   no   cook;  (2)  an  in- 
veterate    bungler;     a    man     with     twenty 
thumbs,   continually  falling  in  the  dishes, 
throwing  out    the    dinner,    preserving    the 
garbage;  (3)  a  dr — ,  well,  don't  let   us  say 
that  —  but  we  dare  n't  let  him  go  to  town, 
and  he  —  poor,  good  soul  —  is  afraid  to  be 
let  go.  — Lafaele  (Raphael),  a  strong,  dull, 
deprecatory  man ;  splendid  with  an  axe,  if 


40  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  watched;  the  better  for  a  rowing,  when  he 
calls  me  "Papa"  in  the  most  wheedling 
tones;  desperately  afraid  of  ghosts,  so  that 
he  dare  not  walk  alone  up  in  the  banana 
patch  —  see  map.  The  rest  are  changing 
labourers;  and  to-night,  owing  to  the  mis- 
erable cowardice  of  Peni,  who  did  not 
venture  to  tell  me  what  the  men  wanted  — 
and  which  was  no  more  than  fair  —  all  are 
gone  —  and  my  weeding  in  the  article  of 
being  finished!  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a 
planter. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours,  and  be  jowned  to  you, 
The  Planter,  R.  L.  S. 

Ttiesday,  yd. 

I  begin  to  see  the  whole  scheme  of 
letter-writing;  you  sit  down  every  day  and 
pour  out  an  equable  stream  of  twaddle. 

This  morning  all  my  fears  were  fled,  and 
all  the  trouble  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  Peni 
himself,  who  deserved  it;  my  field  was  full 
of  weeders;  and  I  am  again  able  to  justify 
the  ways  of  God.  All  morning  I  worked 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  41 

at  the  South  Seas,  and  finished  the  chapter    1890 

Nov. 
I  had   stuck    upon   on    Saturday.      Fanny, 

awfully  hove-to  with  rheumatics  and  inju- 
ries received  upon  the  field  of  sport  and 
glory,  chasing  pi-gs,  was  unable  to  go  up 
and  down  stairs,  so  she  sat  upon  the  back 
verandah,  and  my  work  was  chequered  by 
her  cries.  "  Paul,  you  take  a  spade  to  do 
that  —  dig  a  hole  first.  If  you  do  that, 
you'll  cut  your  foot  off!  Here,  you  boy, 
what  you  do  there?  You  no  get  work? 
You  go  find  Simele;  he  give  you  work. 
Peni,  you  tell  this  boy  he  go  find  Simele; 
suppose  Simele  no  give  him  work,  you  tell 
him  go  'way.  I  no  want  him  here.  That 
boy  no  good."  — Peni  (from  the  distance  in 
reassuring  tones),  "  All  right,  sir !  " —  Fanny 
(after  a  long  pause),  "Peni,  you  tell  that 
boy  go  find  Simele!  I  no  want  him  stand 
here  all  day.  I  no  pay  that  boy.  I  see 
him  all  day.  He  no  do  nothing." — • 
Luncheon,  beef,  soda-scones,  fried  bananas, 
pineapple  in  claret,  coffee.  Try  to  write 
a  poem ;  no  go.  Play  the  flageolet.  Then 


42  VAILTMA   LETTERS. 

1890    sneakingly  off  to  farmering  and  pioneering. 

Nov 

Four  gangs  at  work  on  our  place;  a  lively 
scene;  axes  crashing  and  smoke  blowing; 
all  the  knives  are  out.  But  I  rob  the 
garden  party  of  one  without  a  stock,  and 
you  should  see  my  hand  —  cut  to  ribbons. 
Now  I  want  to  do  my  path  up  the  Vaituliga 
single-handed,  and  I  want  it  to  burst  on 
the  public  complete.  Hence,  with  devilish 
ingenuity,  I  begin  it  at  different  places; 
so  that  if  you  stumble  on  one  section,  you 
may  not  even  then  suspect  the  fulness  of 
my  labours.  Accordingly,  I  started  in  a 
new  place,  below  the  wire,  and  hoping  to 
work  up  to  it.  It  was  perhaps  lucky  I  had 
so  bad  a  cutlass,  and  my  smarting  hand  bid 
me  stay  before  I  had  got  up  to  the  wire,  but 
just  in  season,  so  that  I  was  only  the  better 
of  my  activity,  not  dead  beat  as  yesterday. 

A  strange  business  it  was,  and  infinitely 
solitary;  away  above,  the  sun  was  in  the 
high  tree-tops;  the  lianas  noosed  and 
sought  to  hang  me;  the  saplings  struggled, 
and  came  up  with  that  sob  of  death  that 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  43 

one  gets  to  know  so  well ;  great,  soft,  sappy    l89o 

Nov. 

trees  fell  at  a  lick  of  the  cutlass,  little  tough 
switches  laughed  at  and  dared  my  best 
endeavour.  Soon,  toiling  down  in  that  pit 
of  verdure,  I  heard  blows  on  the  far  side, 
and  then  laughter.  I  confess  a  chill  settled 
on  my  heart.  Being  so  dead  alone,  in  a 
place  where  by  rights  none  should  be 
beyond  me,  I  was  aware,  upon  interroga- 
tion, if  those  blows  had  drawn  nearer,  I 
should  (of  course  quite  unaffectedly)  have 
executed  a  strategic  movement  to  the  rear; 
and  only  the  other  day  I  was  lamenting  my 
insensibility  to  superstition  !  Am  I  begin- 
ning to  be  sucked  in?  Shall  I  become 
a  midnight  twitterer  like  my  neighbours? 
At  times  I  thought  the  blows  were  echoes; 
at  times  I  thought  the  laughter  was  from  . 
birds.  For  our  birds  are  strangely  human 
in  their  calls.  Vaea  mountain  about  sun- 
down sometimes  rings  with  shrill  cries, 
like  the  hails  of  merry,  scattered  children. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  believe  stealthy 
wood-cutters  from  Tanucramanono  were 


44  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  above  me  in  the  wood  and  answerable  for 
the  blows;  as  for  the  laughter,  a  woman 
and  two  children  had  come  and  asked 
Fanny's  leave  to  go  up  shrimp-fishing  in 
the  burn ;  beyond  doubt,  it  was  these  I 
heard.  Just  at  the  right  time  I  returned; 
to  wash  down,  change,  and  begin  this 
snatch  of  letter  before  dinner  was  ready, 
and  to  finish  it  afterwards,  before  Henry 
has  yet  put  in  an  appearance  for  his  lesson 
in  "long  explessions. " 

Dinner:  stewed  beef  and  potatoes,  baked 
bananas,  new  loaf-bread  hot  from  the  oven, 
pineapple  in  claret.  These  are  great 
days;  we  have  been  low  in  the  past;  but 
now  are  we  as  belly-gods,  enjoying  all 
things. 

Wednesday.    (Hist.  Vailima  resumed.') 

A  gorgeous  evening  of  after-glow  in  the 
great  tree-tops  and  behind  the  mountain, 
and  full  moon  over  the  lowlands  and  the 
sea,  inaugurated  a  night  of  horrid  cold. 
To  you  effete  denizens  of  the  so-called 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  45 

temperate  zone,  it  had  seemed  nothing;  *89o 
neither  of  us  could  sleep;  we  were  up 
seeking  extra  coverings,  I  know  not  at 
what  hour  —  it  was  as  bright  as  day.  The 
moon  right  over  Vaea  —  near  due  west,  the 
birds  strangely  silent,  and  the  wood  of 
the  house  tingling  with  cold;  I  believe  it 
must  have  been  60°  !  Consequence  ;  Fanny 
has  a  headache  and  is  wretched,  and  I 
could  do  no  work.  (I  am  trying  all  round 
for  a  place  to  hold  my  pen ;  you  will  hear 
why  later  on;  this  to  explain  penmanship.) 
I  wrote  two  pages,  very  bad,  no  movement, 
no  life  or  interest ;  then  I  wrote  a  business 
letter;  then  took  to  tootling  on  the  flageolet, 
till  glory  should  call  me  farmering. 

I  took  up  at  the  fit  time  Lafaele  and 
Mauga  —  Manga,  accent  on  the  first,  is  a 
mountain,  I  don't  know  what  Mauga  means 
—  mind  what  I  told  you  of  the  value  of 
g  —  to  the  garden,  and  set  them  digging, 
then  turned  my  attention  to  the  path.  I 
could  not  go  into  my  bush  path  for  two 
reasons:  ist,  sore  hands;  2nd,  had  on  my 


46  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

189°  trousers  and  good  shoes.  Lucky  it  was. 
Right  in  the  wild  lime  hedge  which  cuts 
athwart  us  just  homeward  of  the  garden,  I 
found  a  great  bed  of  kuikui  —  sensitive 
plant  —  our  deadliest  enemy.  A  fool 
brought  it  to  this  island  in  a  pot,  and  used 
to  lecture  and  sentimentalise  over  the 
tender  thing.  The  tender  thing  has  now 
taken  charge  of  this  island,  and  men  fight 
it,  with  torn  hands,  for  bread  and  life.  A 
singular,  insidious  thing,  shrinking  and 
biting  like  a  weasel;  clutching  by  its  roots 
as  a  limpet  clutches  to  a  rock.  As  I  fought 
him,  I  bettered  some  verses  in  my  poem, 
the  Woodman;1  the  only  thought  I  gave 
to  letters.  Though  the  kuikui  was  thick, 
there  was  but  a  small  patch  of  it,  and 
when  I  was  done  I  attacked  the  wild  lime, 
and  had  a  hand-to-hand  skirmish  with  its 
spines  and  elastic  suckers.  All  this  time, 
close  by,  in  the  cleared  space  of  the  garden, 
Lafaele  and  Mauga  were  digging.  Sud- 
denly quoth  Lafaele,  "Somebody  he  sing 

1  Published  in  the  New  Review,  January,  1895. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  47 

out." — "Somebody    he    sing     out?      All    l89° 

Nov. 

right.  I  go."  And  I  went  and  found 
they  had  been  whistling  and  "singing  out  " 
for  long,  but  the  fold  of  the  hill  and  the 
uncleared  bush  shuts  in  the  garden  so  that 
no  one  heard,  and  I  was  late  for  dinner, 
and  Fanny's  headache  was  cross;  and  when 
the  meal  was  over,  we  had  to  cut  up  a 
pineapple  which  was  going  bad,  to  make 
jelly  of;  and  the  next  time  you  have  a 
handful  of  broken  blood-blisters,  apply 
pineapple  juice,  and  you  will  give  me  news 
of  it,  and  I  request  a  specimen  of  your 
hand  of  write  five  minutes  after  —  the 
historic  moment  when  I  tackled  this 
history.  My  day  so  far. 

Fanny  was  to  have  rested.  Blessed  Paul 
began  making  a  duck-house;  she  let  him 
be;  the  duck-house  fell  down,  and  she  had 
to  set  her  hand  to  it.  He  was  then  to 
make  a  drinking-place  for  the  pigs ;  she  let 
him  be  again  —  he  made  a  stair  by  which 
the  pigs  will  probably  escape  this  evening, 
and  she  was  near  weeping.  Impossible  to 


48  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

l89°   blame  the  indefatigable  fellow;   energy  is 

Nov. 

too  rare  and  good-will  too  noble  a  thing  to 
discourage;  but  it 's  trying  when  she  wants 
a  rest.  Then  she  had  to  cook  the  dinner; 
then,  of  course  —  like  a  fool  and  a  woman 
—  must  wait  dinner  for  me,  and  make  a 
flurry  of  herself.  Her  day  so  far.  Cetera 
adJninc  desunt. 


Friday  —  /  think. 

I  have  been  too  tired  to  add  to  this 
chronicle,  which  will  at  any  rate  give  you 
some  guess  of  our  employment.  All  goes 
well;  the  kuikui  —  (think  of  this  mispro- 
nunciation having  actually  infected  me  to 
the  extent  of  misspelling!  tuitui  is  the 
word  by  rights)  —  the  tuitui  is  all  out  of 
the  paddock  —  a  fenced  park  between  the 
house  and  boundary;  Peni's  men  start  to- 
day on  the  road;  the  garden  is  part  burned, 
part  dug;  and  Henry,  at  the  head  of  a 
troop  of  underpaid  assistants,  is  hard  at 
work  clearing.  The  part  clearing  you  will 
see  from  the  mao;  from  the  house  run 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  49 

down   to   the  stream   side,    up  the  stream    1890 
nearly  as  high  as  the  garden;  then  back  to 
the   star  which   I   have  just  added  to  the 
map. 

My  long,  silent  contests  in  the  forest 
have  had  a  strange  effect  on  me.  The 
unconcealed  vitality  of  these  vegetables, 
their  exuberant  number  and  strength,  the 
attempts  —  I  can  use  no  other  word  —  of 
lianas  to  enwrap  and  capture  the  intruder, 
the  awful  silence,  the  knowledge  that  all 
my  efforts  are  only  like  the  performance  of 
an  actor,  the  thing  of  a  moment,  and  the 
wood  will  silently  and  swiftly  heal  them 
up  with  fresh  effervescence;  the  cunning 
sense  of  the  tuitui,  suffering  itself  to  be 
touched  with  wind-swayed  grasses  and  not 
minding  —  but  let  the  grass  be  moved  by  a 
man,  and  it  shuts  up;  the  whole  silent 
battle,  murder,  and  slow  death  of  the  con- 
tending forest;  weigh  upon  the  imagina- 
tion. My  poem  the  Woodman  stands ;  but 
I  have  taken  refuge  in  a  new  story,  which 
just  shot  through  me  like  a  bullet  in  one 


50  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1890   of  my  moments  of  awe,  alone  in  that  tragic 

Nov. 

jungle :  — 

The  High  Woods  of  Ulufanua.1 

1.  A  South  Sea  Bridal. 

2.  Under  the  Ban. 

3.  Savao  and  Faavao. 

4.  Cries  in  the  High  Wood. 

5.  Rumour  full  of  Tongues. 

6.  The  Hour  of  Peril. 

7.  The  Day  of  Vengeance. 

It  is  very  strange,  very  extravagant,  I 
dare  say;  but  it  's  varied,  and  picturesque, 
and  has  a  pretty  love  affair,  and  ends  well. 
Ulufanua  is  a  lovely  Samoan  word,  ulu  = 
grove ;  fanua  =  land ;  grove-land  —  "  the 
tops  of  the  high  trees."  Savao,  "  sacred  to 
the  wood,"  and  Faavao,  "wood- ways,"  are 
the  names  of  two  of  the  characters,  Ulufanua 
the  name  of  the  supposed  island. 

I  am  very  tired,  and  rest  off  to-day  from 
all  but  letters.  Fanny  is  quite  done  up; 

1  Afterwards  changed  into  The  Beach  of  Falesd  (see 
below,  Letters  vm.  x.  xi.).  . 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  51 

she  could  not  sleep  last  night,  something  JT89o 
it  seemed  like  asthma — I  trust  not.  I 
suppose  Lloyd  will  be  about,  so  you  can 
give  him  the  benefit  of  this  long  scrawl.1 
Never  say  that  I  can't  write  a  letter,  say 
that  I  don't.  — Yours  ever,  my  dearest 
fellow,  R.  L.  S. 

Later  on  Friday. 

The  guid  wife  had  bread  to  bake,  and 
she  baked  it  in  a  pan,  O !  But  between 
whiles  she  was  down  with  me  weeding 
sensitive  in  the  paddock.  The  men  have 
but  now  passed  over  it ;  I  was  round  in 
that  very  place  to  see  the  weeding  was 
done  thoroughly,  and  already  the  reptile 
springs  behind  our  heels.  Tuitui  is  a 
truly  strange  beast,  and  gives  food  for 
thought.  I  am  nearly  sure  —  I  cannot  yet 
be  quite,  I  mean  to  experiment,  when  I  am 
less  on  the  hot  chase  of  the  beast  —  that, 
even  at  the  instant  he  shrivels  up  his 

1  Mr.  Lloyd  Osbourne  was  at  this  time  absent  from  his 
family  on  a  visit  to  England. 


$2  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  leaves,  he  strikes  his  prickles  downward 
so  as  to  catch  the  uprooting  finger;  instinc- 
tive, say  the  gabies;  but  so  is  man's 
impulse  to  strike  out.  One  thing  that 
takes  and  holds  me  is  to  see  the  strange 
variation  in  the  propagation  of  alarm  among 
these  rooted  beasts ;  at  times  it  spreads  to 
a  radius  (I  speak  by  the  guess  of  the  eye) 
of  five  or  six  inches;  at  times  only  one 
individual  plant  appears  frightened  at  a 
time.  We  tried  how  long  it  took  one  to 
recover;  't  is  a  sanguine  creature;  it  is  all 
abroad  again  before  (I  guess  again)  two 
minutes.  It  is  odd  how  difficult  in  this 
world  it  is  to  be  armed.  The  double 
armour  of  this  plant  betrays  it.  In  a  thick 
tuft,  where  the  leaves  disappear,  I  thrust 
in  my  hand,  and  the  bite  of  the  thorns 
betrays  the  topmost  stem.  In  the  open 
again,  and  when  I  hesitate  if  it  be  clover, 
a  touch  on  the  leaves,  and  its  fine  sense 
and  retractile  action  betrays  its  identity  at 
once.  Yet  it  has  one  gift  incomparable. 
Rome  had  virtue  and  knowledge;  Rome 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  53 

perished.     The  sensitive    plant    has    indi-    l89° 

Nov. 
gestible  seeds  —  so  they  say  —  and  it  will 

flourish  for  ever.  I  give  my  advice  thus  to 
a  young  plant  —  have  a  strong  root,  a  weak 
stem,  and  an  indigestible  seed;  so  you  will 
outlast  the  eternal  city,  and  your  progeny 
will  clothe  mountains,  and  the  irascible 
planter  will  blaspheme  in  vain.  The  weak 
point  of  tuitui  is  that  its  stem  is  strong. 

Supplementary  Page. 

Here  beginneth  the  third  lesson,  which 
is  not  from  the  planter  but  from  a  less 
estimable  character,  the  writer  of  books. 

I  want  you  to  understand  about  this 
South  Sea  book.1  The  job  is  immense; 
I  stagger  under  material.  I  have  seen  the 
first  big  tacJie.  It  was  necessary  to  see  the 

1  77/i?  South  Seas :  a  Record  of  Three  Cruises .  such  was 
to  be  the  title  of  the  projected  book,  which  was  to  narrate 
the  experiences  of  the  author  and  his  family  on  their  recent 
Pacific  voyages,  first  in  the  yacht  Casco,  and  afterwards  in 
the  traders  Equator  and.  Janet  A'icoll.  His  friends  looked 
forward  to  it  with  the  hope  that  it  would  surpass  his  early 
books  of  travels  by  all  the  difference  between  the  beautv 
and  strangeness  of  the  tropic  islands  and  the  homeliness 
of  the  banks  of  Sambre  and  Oise  or  the  desolation  of  the 
Cevennes.  But  the  material,  perhaps  from  its  too  great 


54  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l8°o  smaller  ones;  the  letters  were  at  my  hand 

Nov. 

for  the  purpose,  but  I  was  not  going  to 
lose  this  experience;  and  instead  of  writing 
mere  letters,  have  poured  out  a  lot  of  stuff 
for  the  book.  How  this  works  and  fits, 
time  is  to  show.  But  I  believe,  in  time, 
I  shall  get  the  whole  thing  in  form.  Now, 
up  to  date,  that  is  all  my  design,  and  I  beg 
to  warn  you  till  we  have  the  whole  (or 
much)  of  the  stuff  together,  you  can  hardly 
judge  —  and  I  can  hardly  judge.  Such  a 
mass  of  stuff  is  to  be  handled,  if  possible, 
without  repetition  —  so  much  foreign 
matter  to  be  introduced —  if  possible  with 
perspicuity — and  as  much  as  can  be,  a 
spirit  of  narrative  to  be  preserved.  You 
will  find  that  come  stronger  as  I  proceed, 
and  get  the  explanations  worked  through. 

richness  and  novelty,  perhaps  from  the  author's  desire  to 
impart  solid  information  instead  of  mere  impressions, 
proved  intractable  in  his  hands ;  and  the  work  never  got 
beyond  a  number  of  chapters  in  the  form  of  letters,  written 
with  much  less  than  his  usual  felicity,  which  were  published 
in  full  in  the  New  York  Sun  and,  in  part  only,  in  Black 
and  White.  See  below  for  further  reference  to  the  labour 
which  this  undertaking  cost  him  and  to  his  disappointment 
with  the  result. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  55 

Problems  of  style  are  (as  yet)  dirt  under  my  l89° 
feet;  my  problem  is  architectural,  creative 
—  to  get  this  stuff  jointed  and  moving.  If 
I  can  do  that,  I  will  trouble  you  for  style; 
anybody  might  write  it,  and  it  would  be 
splendid  ;  well-engineered,  the  masses  right, 
the  blooming  thing  travelling  —  twig? 

This  I  wanted  you  to  understand,  for 
lots  of  the  stuff  sent  home  is,  I  imagine, 
rot  —  and  slovenly  rot  —  and  some  of  it 
pompous  rot;  and  I  want  you  to  understand 
it  's  a  lay -in. 

Soon,  if  the  tide  of  poeshie  continues, 
I  '11  send  you  a  whole  lot  to  damn.  You 
never  said  thank-you  for  the  handsome 
tribute  addressed  to  you  from  Apemama;1 
such  is  the  gratitude  of  the  world  to  the 
God-sent  poick.  Well,  well:  —  "Vex  not 
thou  the  poick's  mind,  With  thy  coriaceous 
ingratitude,  The  P.  will  be  to  your  faults 
more  than  a  little  blind,  And  yours  is  a 
far  from  handsome  attitude."  Having  thus 
dropped  into  poetry  in  a  spirit  of  friencl- 

1  The  lines  beginning  "  I  heard  the  pulse  of  the  besieg- 
ing sea,"  printed  Longman's  Magazine,  January,  1895. 


56  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  ship,   I  have  the  honour  to  subscribe  my- 
Nov.      .1  «,. 
self,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  humble  servant, 

SILAS  WEGG. 

I  suppose  by  this  you  will  have  seen  the 
lad  —  and  his  feet  will  have  been  in  the 
Monument  —  and  his  eyes  beheld  the  face 
of  George.1  Well! 

There  is  much  eloquence  in  a  well ! 
I  am,  Sir 
Yours 

The  Epigrammatist 
ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 

\ 
\/ 

FINIS  — EXPLICIT 

1  "  The  Monument  "  was  his  name  for  my  house  at  the 
British  Museum,  and  George  is  my  old  faithful  servant, 
George  Went;  born  1819,  died  1893. 


II 


Vailima,  Tuesday,  November  2^/1,  1890. 

MY  DEAR  COLVJN,  —  I  wanted  to  go  out  1890 
bright  and  early  to  go  on  with  my  survey. 
You  never  heard  of  that.  The  world  has 
turned,  and  much  water  run  under  bridges, 
since  I  stopped  my  diary.  I  have  written 
six  more  chapters  of  the  book,  all  good  I 
potently  believe,  and  given  up,  as  a  decep- 
tion of  the  devil's,  the  High  Woods.  I 
have  been  once  down  to  Apia,  to  a  huge 
native  feast  at  Seumanutafa's,  the  chief  of 
Apia.  There  was  a  vast  mass  of  food, 
crowds  of  people,  the  police  charging 
among  them  with  whips,  the  whole  in  high 
good  humour  on  both  sides;  infinite  noise; 
and  a  historic  event  —  Mr.  Clarke,  the 
missionary,  and  his  wife,  assisted  at  a 
native  dance.  On  my  return  from  this 
function,  I  found  work  had  stopped;  no 
more  South  Seas  in  my  belly.  Well, 


58  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1890  Henry  had  cleared  a  great  deal  of  our  bush 
v'  on  a  contract,  and  it  ought  to  be  measured. 
I  set  myself  to  the  task  with  a  tape-line; 
it  seemed  a  dreary  business;  then  I  bor- 
rowed a  prismatic  compass,  and  tackled  the 
task  afresh.  I  have  no  books;  I  had  not 
touched  an  instrument  nor  given  a  thought 
to  the  business  since  the  year  of  grace 
1871;  you  can  imagine  with  what  interest 
I  sat  down  yesterday  afternoon  to  reduce 
my  observations;  five  triangles  I  had  taken; 
all  five  came  right,  to  my  ineffable  joy. 
Our  dinner  —  the  lowest  we  have  ever  been 
—  consisted  of  one  avocado  pear  between 
Fanny  and  me,  a  ship's  biscuit  for  the 
guidman,  white  bread  for  the  Missis,  and 
red  wine  for  the  twa.  No  salt  horse,  even, 
in  all  Vailima !  After  dinner  Henry  came, 
and  I  began  to  teach  him  decimals;  you 
would  n't  think  I  knew  them  myself  after 
so  long  desuetude ! 

I  could  not  but  wonder  how  Henry 
stands  his  evenings  here;  the  Polynesian 
loves  gaiety  —  I  feed  him  with  decimals, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  59 

the  mariner's  compass,  derivations,  gram- 
mar, and  the  like;  delecting  myself,  after 
the  manner  of  my  race,  moult  tristement. 
I  suck  my  paws;  I  live  for  my  dexterities 
and  by  my  accomplishments;  even  my 
clumsinesses  are  my  joy  —  my  woodcuts, 
my  stumbling  on  the  pipe,  this  surveying 
even  —  and  even  weeding  sensitive;  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  mind,  with  the  eye, 
with  the  hand  —  with  a  part  of  me ;  diver- 
sion flows  in  these  ways  for  the  dreary 
man.  But  gaiety  is  what  these  children 
want;  to  sit  in  a  crowd,  tell  stories  and 
pass  jests,  to  hear  one  another  laugh  and 
scamper  with  the  girls.  It  's  good  fun, 
too,  I  believe,  but  not  for  R.  L.  S.,  cetat. 
40.  Which  I  am  now  past  forty,  Custodian, 
and  not  one  penny  the  worse  that  I  can 
see;  as  amusable  as  ever;  to  be  on  board 
ship  is  reward  enough  for  me;  give  me  the 
wages  of  going  on  —  in  a  schooner !  Only, 
if  ever  I  were  gay,  which  I  misremember, 
I  am  gay  no  more.  And  here  is  poor 
Henry  passing  his  evenings  on  my  intel- 


60       .  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  lectual  husks,  which  the  professors  masti- 
cated; keeping  the  accounts  of  the  estate 

—  all  wrong  I  have  no  doubt  —  I  keep  no 
check,  beyond  a  very  rough  one;  marching 
in  with  a  cloudy  brow,  and  the  day-book 
under  his  arm;  tackling  decimals,  coming 
with  cases  of  conscience  —  how  would  an 
English  chief  behave  in  such  a  case?  etc.  ; 
and,  I  am  bound  to  say,  on  any  glimmer  of 
a  jest,    lapsing    into   native  hilarity  as  a 
tree  straightens  itself  after  the  wind  is  by. 
The    other   night    I    remembered    my   old 
friend  —  I    believe  yours    also  —  Scholas- 
tikos,  and  administered  the  crow  and  the 
anchor  —  they  were  quite  fresh  to  Samoan 
ears  (this   implies  a  very  early  severance) 

—  and   I  thought  the  anchor  would   have 
made  away  with  my  Simele  altogether. 

Fanny's  time,  in  this  interval,  has  been 
largely  occupied  in  contending  publicly 
with  wild  swine.  We  have  a  black  sow; 
we  call  her  Jack  Sheppard ;  impossible  to 
confine  her  —  impossible  also  for  her  to  be 
confined !  To  my  sure  knowledge  she  has 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  6 1 

been  in  an  interesting  condition  for  longer  1890 
than  any  other  sow  in  story;  else  she  had 
long  died  the  death ;  as  soon  as  she  is 
brought  to  bed,  she  shall  count  her  days. 
I  suppose  that  sow  has  cost  us  in  days' 
labour  from  thirty  to  fifty  dollars;  as  many 
as  eight  boys  (at  a  dollar  a  day)  have  been 
twelve  hours  in  chase  of  her.  Now  it  is 
supposed  that  Fanny  has  outwitted  her; 
she  grins  behind  broad  planks  in  what  was 
once  the  cook-house.  She  is  a  wild  pig; 
far  handsomer  than  any  tame;  and  when 
she  found  the  cook-house  was  too  much  for 
her  methods  of  evasion,  she  lay  down  on 
the  floor  and  refused  food  and  drink  for  a 
whole  Sunday.  On  Monday  morning,  she 
relapsed,  and  now  eats  and  drinks  like  a 
little  man.  I  am  reminded  of  an  incident. 
Two  Sundays  ago,  the  sad  word  was 
brought  that  the  sow  was  out  again;  this 
time  she  had  carried  another  in  her  flight. 
Moors  and  I  and  Fanny  were  strolling  up 
to  the  garden,  and  there  by  the  waterside 
we  saw  the  black  sow,  looking  guilty.  If 


62  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1890  seemed  to  me  beyond  words;  but  Fanny's 
cri  du  cceur  was  delicious:  "G-r-r!"  she 
cried ;  "  nobody  loves  you !  " 

I  would  I  could  tell  you  the  moving 
story  of  our  cart  and  cart-horses ;  the  latter 
are  dapple-grey,  about  sixteen  hands,  and 
of  enormous  substance;  the  former  was  a 
kind  of  red  and  green  shandry-dan  with 
a  driving  bench;  plainly  unfit  to  carry 
lumber  or  to  face  our  road.  (Remember 
that  the  last  third  of  my  road,  about  a 
mile,  is  all  made  out  of  a  bridle-track  by 
my  boys  —  and  my  dollars.)  It  was  sup- 
posed a  white  man  had  been  found  —  an 
ex-German  artilleryman  —  to  drive  this 
last ;  he  proved  incapable  and  drunken ; 
the  gallant  Henry,  who  had  never  driven 
before,  and  knew  nothing  about  horses  — 
except  the  rats  and  weeds  that  flourish  on 
the  islands  —  volunteered ;  Moors  accepted, 
proposing  to  follow  and  supervise:  de- 
spatched his  work  and  started  after.  No 
cart !  he  hurried  on  up  the  road  —  no  cart. 
Transfer  the  scene  to  Vailima,  where  on  a 


VAILIMA   LETTERS  63 

sudden  to  Fanny  and  me,  the  cart  appears,  l89° 
apparently  at  a  hard  gallop,  some  two 
hours  before  it  was  expected;  Henry  radi- 
antly ruling  chaos  from  the  bench.  It 
stopped :  it  was  long  before  we  had  time  to 
remark  that  the  axle  was  twisted  like  the 
letter  L.  Our  first  care  was  the  horses. 
There  they  stood,  black  with  sweat,  the 
sweat  raining  from  them  —  literally  raining 
—  their  heads  down,  their  feet  apart  —  and 
blood  running  thick  from  the  nostrils  of 
the  mare.  We  got  out  Fanny's  under- 
clothes —  could  n't  find  anything  else  but 
our  blankets  —  to  rub  them  clown,  and  in 
about  half  an  hour  we  had  the  blessed 
satisfaction  to  see  one  after  the  other  take 
a  bite  or  two  of  grass.  But  it  was  a 
toucher;  a  little  more  and  these  steeds 
would  have  been  foundered. 

Monday,  ^ist?  November. 

Near  a  week  elapsed,  and  no  journal. 
On  Monday  afternoon,  Moors  rode  up  and 
I  rode  down  with  him,  dined,  and  went 


64  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  over  in  the  evening  to  the  American  Con 

Nov. 

sulate;  present,  Consul- General  Sewall, 
Lieut.  Parker  and  Mrs.  Parker,  Lafarge 
the  American  decorator,  Adams  an  Ameri- 
can historian;  we  talked  late,  and  it  was 
arranged  I  was  to  write  up  for  Fanny,  and 
we  should  both  dine  on  the  morrow. 

On  the  Friday,  I  was  all  forenoon  in  the 
Mission  House,  lunched  at  the  German 
Consulate,  went  on  board  the  Sperber 
(German  war  ship)  in  the  afternoon,  called 
on  my  lawyer  on  my  way  out  to  American 
Consulate,  and  talked  till  dinner  time  with 
Adams,  whom  I  am  supplying  with  intro- 
ductions and  information  for  Tahiti  and 
the  Marquesas.  Fanny  arrived  a  wreck, 
and  had  to  lie  down.  The  moon  rose,  one 
day  past  full,  and  we  dined  in  the  veranda, 
a  good  dinner  on  the  whole;  talk  with 
Lafarge  about  art  and  the  lovely  dreams  of 
art  students.1  Remark  by  Adams,  which 

1  Mr.  John  Lafarge  of  New  York,  one  of  the  most 
original  and  refined  of  living  artists,  whose  record  of  his 
holiday  in  the  South  Seas,  in  the  shape  of  a  series  of 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  65 

took   me  briskly  home  to  the  Monument    1890 

Nov. 
—  "I  only  liked    one  young  woman  —  and 

that  was  Mrs.  Procter."1  Henry  James 
would  like  that.  Back  by  moonlight  in 
the  consulate  boat  —  Fanny  being  too  tired 
to  walk — to  Moors's.  Saturday,  I  left 
Fanny  to  rest,  and  was  off  early  to  the 
Mission,  where  the  politics  are  thrilling 
just  now.  The  native  pastors  (to  every 
one's  surprise)  have  moved  of  themselves 
in  the  matter  of  the  native  dances,  desir- 
ing the  restrictions  to  be  removed,  or 
rather  to  be  made  dependent  on  the  char- 
acter of  the  dance.  Clarke,  who  had  feared 
censure  and  all  kinds  of  trouble,  is,  of 

water-color  sketches  of  the  scenery  and  people  (with  a 
catalogue  full  of  interesting  notes  and  observations)  has 
been  one  of  the  features  of  the  Champ  de  Mars  Salon  this 
year,  and  will,  it  maybe  hoped,  be  exhibited  in  London  by 
the  time  these  pages  are  published. 

1  Mrs.  B.  W.  Procter,  the  step-daughter  of  Basil  Mon- 
tagu and  widow  of  Barry  Cornwall.  The  death  of  this 
spirited  veteran  in  1888  snapped  away  one  of  the  last  links 
with  the  days  and  memories  of  Keats  and  Coleridge.  A 
shrewd  and  not  too  indulgent  judge  of  character  she  took 
R.  L.  S.  into  warm  favour  at  first  sight,  and  never  spoke 
of  or  inquired  after  him  but  with  unwonted  tenderness. 
VOL.  i.  —  5 


66  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1890  course,  rejoicing  greatly.  A  characteristic 
feature:  the  argument  of  the  pastors  was 
handed  in  in  the  form  of  a  fictitious  narra- 
tive of  the  voyage  of  one  Mr.  Pye,  an  Eng- 
lish traveller,  and  his  conversation  with  a 
chief;  there  are  touches  of  satire  in  this 
educational  romance.  Mr.  Pye,  for  in- 
stance, admits  that  he  knows  nothing  about 
the  Bible.  At  the  Mission  I  was  sought 
out  by  Henry  in  a  devil  of  an  agitation ; 
he  has  been  made  the  victim  of  a  forgery 

—  a  crime  hitherto  unknown  in  Samoa.      I 
had  to  go  to  Folau,  the  chief  judge  here, 
in  the  matter.     Folau  had  never  heard  of 
the  offence,  and  begged  to  know  what  was 
the  punishment ;  there  may  be  lively  times 
in   forgery  ahead.     It    seems   the    sort    of 
crime  to  tickle  a  Polynesian.     After  lunch 

—  you  can  see  what  a  busy  three  days  I  am 
describing  —  we  set  off  to  ride  home.     My 
Jack  was  full  of  the  devil  of  corn  and  too 
much  grass,  and  no  work.     I  had  to  ride 
ahead  and  leave  Fanny  behind.     He  is  a 
most  gallant  little  rascal  is  my  Jack,  and 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  67 

takes  the  whole  way  as  hard  as  the  rider 
pleases.  Single  incident:  half-way  up,  I 
find  my  boys  upon  the  road  and  stop  and 
talk  with  Henry  in  his  character  of  ganger, 
as  long  as  Jack  will  suffer  me.  Fanny 
drones  in  after;  we  make  a  show  of  eating 
—  or  I  do  —  she  goes  to  bed  about  half-past 
six!  I  write  some  verses,  read  Irving's 
Washington,  and  follow  about  half-past 
eight.  O,  one  thing  more  I  did,  in  a  pro- 
phetic spirit.  I  had  made  sure  Fanny  was 
not  fit  to  be  left  alone,  and  wrote  before 
turning  in  a  letter  to  Chalmers,  telling  him 
I  could  not  meet  him  in  Auckland  at  this 
time.  By  eleven  at  night,  Fanny  got  me 
wakened  —  she  had  tried  twice  in  vain  — 
and  I  found  her  very  bad.  Thence  till 
three,  we  laboured  with  mustard  poultices, 
laudanum,  soda  and  ginger  —  Heavens ! 
wasn't  it  cold;  the  land  breeze  was  as  cold 
as  a  river ;  the  moon  was  glorious  in  the  pad- 
dock, and  the  great  boughs  and  the  black 
shadows  of  our  trees  were  inconceivable. 
But  it  was  a  poor  time. 


68  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  Sunday  morning  found  Fanny,  of  course, 
a  complete  wreck,  and  myself  not  very 
brilliant.  Paul  had  to  go  to  Vailele  re 
cocoa-nuts;  it  was  doubtful  if  he  could  be 
back  by  dinner;  never  mind,  said  I,  I  '11 
take  dinner  when  you  return.  Off  set 
Paul.  I  did  an  hour's  work,  and  then 
tackled  the  house  work.  I  did  it  beautiful : 
the  house  was  a  picture,  it  resplended  of 
propriety.  Presently  Mr.  Moors's  Andrew 
rode  up;  I  heard  the  doctor  was  at  the 
Forest  House  and  sent  a  note  to  him ;  and 
when  he  came,  I  heard  my  wife  telling  him 
she  had  been  in  bed  all  day,  and  that  was 
why  the  house  was  so  dirty !  Was  it  grate- 
ful? Was  it  politic?  Was  it  TRUE?  — 
Enough!  In  the  interval,  up  marched 
little  L.  S.,  one  of  my  neighbours,  all  in 
his  Sunday  white  linens;  made  a  fine 
salute,  and  demanded  the  key  of  the  kitchen 
in  German  and  English.  And  he  cooked 
dinner  for  us,  like  a  little  man,  and  had  it 
on  the  table  and  the  coffee  ready  by  the 
hour.  Paul  had  arranged  me  this  surprise. 


VAILIM4    LETTERS.  69 

Some  time  later,  Paul  returned  himself  with    '890 
a  fresh  surprise  on  hand;    he  was  almost 
sober;  nothing  but  a  hazy  eye  distinguished 
him  from  Paul  of  the  week  days  :  vivat ! 

On  the  evening  I  cannot  dwell.  All  the 
horses  got  out  of  the  paddock,  went  across, 
and  smashed  my  neighbour's  garden  into  a 
big  hole.  How  little  the  amateur  con- 
ceives a  farmer's  troubles.  I  went  out  at 
once  with  a  lantern,  staked  up  a  gap  in  the 
hedge,  was  kicked  at  by  a  chestnut  mare, 
who  straightway  took  to  the  bush ;  and 
came  back.  A  little  after,  they  had  found 
another  gap,  and  the  crowd  were  all  abroad 
again.  What  has  happened  to  our  own 
garden  nobody  yet  knows. 

Fanny  had  a  fair  night,  and  we  are 
both  tolerable  this  morning,  only  the  yoke 
of  correspondence  lies  on  me  heavy.  I 
beg  you  will  let  this  go  on  to  my  mother. 
I  got  such  a  good  start  in  your  letter,  that 
I  kept  on  at  it,  and  I  have  neither  time 
nor  energy  for  more. 

Yours  ever, 

R.   L.   S. 


70  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

Something  new. 

1890        I  was  called  from  my  letters  by  the  voice 

Nov'   of  Mr.  ,  who  had  just  come  up  with  a 

load  of  wood,  roaring,  "Henry!  Henry! 
Bring  six  boys !  "  I  saw  there  was  some- 
thing wrong,  and  ran  out.  The  cart,  half 
unloaded,  had  upset  with  the  mare  in  the 
shafts;  she  was  all  cramped  together  and 
all  tangled  up  in  harness  and  cargo,  the  off 

shaft  pushing  her  over,    Mr.  holding 

her  up  by  main  strength,  and  right  along- 
side of  her  —  where  she  must  fall  if  she 
went  down  —  a  deadly  stick  of  a  tree  like 
a  lance.  I  could  not  but  admire  the 
wisdom  and  faith  of  this  great  brute;  I 
never  saw  the  riding-horse  that  would  not 
have  lost  its  life  in  such  a  situation ;  but 
the  cart-elephant  patiently  waited  and  was 
saved.  It  was  a  stirring  three  minutes,  I 
can  tell  you. 

I  forgot  in  talking  of  Saturday  to  tell 
of  one  incident  which  will  particularly 
interest  my  mother.  I  met  Dr.  D.  from 
Savaii,  and  had  an  age-long  talk  about 


VAILLMA   LETTERS.  71 

Edinburgh  folk;  it  \vas  very  pleasant.  He 
has  been  studying  in  Edinburgh,  along 
with  his  son;  a  pretty  relation.  He  told 
me  he  knew  nobody  but  college  people:  "I 
was  altogether  a  student,"  he  said  with 
glee.  He  seems  full  of  cheerfulness  and 
thick-set  energy.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  put 
him  in  a  novel  with  effect;  and  ten  to  one, 
if  I  know  more  of  him,  the  image  will  be 
only  blurred. 

Tuesday,  Dec.  2nd. 

I  should  have  told  you  yesterday  that  all 
my  boys  were  got  up  for  their  work  in 
moustaches  and  side-whiskers  of  some  sort 
of  blacking — I  suppose  wood-ash.  It  was 
a  sight  of  joy  to  see  them  return  at  night, 
axe  on  shoulder,  feigning  to  march  like 
soldiers,  a  choragus  with  a  loud  voice 
singing  out,  "March  —  step!  March  — 
step!"  in  imperfect  recollection  of  some 
drill. 

Fanny  seems  much  revived. 

R.    L.    S. 


Ill 

Monday,  tiuenty-somethingth  of 
December,  1890. 

1890  MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  —  I  do  not  say  my 
Jack  is  anything  extraordinary;  he  is  only 
an  island  horse;  and  the  profane  might 
call  him  a  Punch;  and  his  face  is  like  a 
donkey's;  and  natives  have  ridden  him, 
and  he  has  no  mouth  in  consequence,  and 
occasionally  shies.  But  his  merits  are 
equally  surprising;  and  I  don't  think  I 
should  ever  have  known  Jack's  merits  if  I 
had  not  been  riding  up  of  late  on  moonless 
nights.  Jack  is  a  bit  of  a  dandy;  he  loves 
to  misbehave  in  a  gallant  manner,  above 
all  on  Apia  Street,  and  when  I  stop  to 
spsak  to  people,  they  say  (Dr.  Stuebel  the 
German  consul  said  about  three  days  ago), 
"  Oh,  what  a  wild  horse !  it  cannot  be  safe  to 
ride  him. "  Such  a  remark  is  Jack's  reward, 
and  represents  his  ideal  of  fame.  Now 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  73 

when  I  start  out  of  Apia  on  a  dark  night,  l89° 
you  should  see  my  changed  horse;  at  a 
fast  steady  walk,  with  his  head  down,  and 
sometimes  his  nose  to  the  ground  —  when 
he  wants  to  do  that  he  asks  for  his  head 
with  a  little  eloquent  polite  movement 
indescribable  —  he  climbs  the  long  ascent 
and  threads  the  darkest  of  the  wood.  The 
first  night  I  came  it  was  starry;  and  it  was 
singular  to  see  the  starlight  drip  down  into 
the  crypt  of  the  wood,  and  shine  in  the 
open  end  of  the  road,  as  bright  as  moon- 
light at  home;  but  the  crypt  itself  was 
proof,  blackness  lived  in  it.  The  next 
night  it  was  raining.  We  left  the  lights 
of  Apia  and  passed  into  limbo.  Jack 
finds  a  way  for  himself,  but  he  does  not 
calculate  for  my  height  above  the  saddle; 
and  I  am  directed  forward,  all  braced  up 
for  a  crouch  and  holding  my  switch  upright 
in  front  of  me.  It  is  curiously  interesting. 
In  the  forest,  the  dead  wood  is  phospho- 
rescent; soni2  nights  the  whole  ground  is 
strewn  with  it,  so  that  it  seems  like  a 


74  VAIL1MA   LETTERS. 

1890  grating  over  a  pale  hell;  doubtless  this  is 
one  of  the  things  that  feed  the  night  fears 
of  the  natives ;  and  I  am  free  to  confess 
that  in  a  night  of  trackless  darkness  where 
all  else  is  void,  these  pallid  ignes  suppositi 
have  a  fantastic  appearance,  rather  bogey 
even.  One  night,  when  it  was  very  dark, 
a  man  had  put  out  a  little  lantern  by  the 
wayside  to  show  the  entrance  to  his  ground. 
I  saw  the  light,  as  I  thought,  far  ahead, 
and  supposed  it  was  a  pedestrian  coming  to 
meet  me;  I  was  quite  taken  by  surprise 
when  it  struck  in  my  face  and  passed 
behind  me.  Jack  saw  it,  and  he  was  ap- 
palled; do  you  think  he  thought  of  shy- 
ing? No,  sir,  not  in  the  dark;  in  the 
dark  Jack  knows  he  is  on  duty;  and  he 
went  past  that  lantern  steady  and  swift ; 
only,  as  he  went,  he  groaned  and  shud- 
dered. For  about  2500  of  Jack's  steps  we 
only  pass  one  house  —  that  where  the 
lantern  was;  and  about  1500  of  these  are 
in  the  darkness  of  the  pit.  But  new  the 
moon  is  on  tap  again,  and  the  roads  lighted. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS. 


75 


I  have  been  exploring  up  the  Vaituliga; 
see  your  map.  It  comes  down  a  wonderful 
fine  glen;  at  least  200  feet  of  cliffs  on 


either    hand,    winding    like    a    corkscrew, 
great   forest  trees  filling  it.     At  the  top 


76  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  there  ought  to  be  a  fine  double  fall;  but 
the  stream  evades  it  by  a  fault  and  passes 
underground.  Above  the  fall  it  runs  (at 
this  season)  full  and  very  gaily  in  a  shallow 
valley,  some  hundred  yards  before  the  head 
of  the  glen.  Its  course  is  seen  full  of 
grasses,  like  a  flooded  meadow;  that  is  the 
sink !  beyond  the  grave  of  the  grasses,  the 
bed  lies  dry.  Near  this  upper  part  there 
is  a  great  show  of  ruinous  pig-walls;  a 
village  must  have  stood  near  by. 

To  walk  from  our  house  to  Wreck  Hill 
(when  the  path  is  buried  in  fallen  trees) 
takes  one  about  half  an  hour,  I  think;  to 
return  not  more  than  twenty  minutes;  I 
dare  say  fifteen.  Hence  I  should  guess  it 
was  three-quarters  of  a  mile.  I  had  meant 
to  join  on  my  explorations  passing  eastward 
by  the  sink;  but,  Lord !  how  it  rains. 

(Later.} 

I  went  out  this  morning  with  a  pocket 
compass  and  walked  in  a  varying  direction, 
perhaps  on  an  average  S.  by  W.,  1754 
paces.  Then  I  struck  into  the  bush,  N. 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  77 

\V.  by  N.,  hoping  to  strike  the  Vaituliga  l89«> 
above  the  falls.  Now  I  have  it  plotted  out 
I  see  I  should  have  gone  W.  or  even  W 
by  S.  ;  but  it  is  not  easy  to  guess.  For 
600  weary  paces  I  struggled  through  the 
bush,  and  then  came  on  the  stream  below 
the  gorge,  where  it  was  comparatively  easy 
to  get  down  to  it.  In  the  place  where  I 
struck  it,  it  made  cascades  about  a  little 
isle,  and  was  running  about  N.E.,  20  to 
30  feet  wide,  as  deep  as  to  my  knee,  and 
piercing  cold.  I  tried  to  follow  it  down, 
and  keep  the  run  of  its  direction  and  my 
paces;  but  when  I  was  wading  to  the 
knees  and  the  waist  in  mud,  poison  brush, 
and  rotted  wood,  bound  hand  and  foot  in 
lianas,  shovelled  unceremoniously  off  the 
one  shore  and  driven  to  try  my  luck  upon 
the  other  —  I  saw  I  should  have  hard 
enough  work  to  get  my  body  down,  if  my 
mind  rested.  It  was  a  damnable  walk; 
certainly  not  half  a  mile  as  the  crow  flies, 
but  a  real  bucketer  for  hardship.  Once  I 
had  to  pass  the  stream  where  it  flowed 


78  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  between  banks  about  three  feet  high.  To 
get  the  easier  down,  I  swung  myself  by  a 
wild-cocoanut  —  (so  called,  it  bears  bunches 
of  scarlet  nutlets)  —  which  grew  upon  the 
brink.  As  I  so  swung,  I  received  a  crack 
on  the  head  that  knocked  me  all  abroad. 
Impossible  to  guess  what  tree  had  taken  a 
shy  at  me.  So  many  towered  above,  one 
over  the  other,  and  the  missile,  whatever 
it  was,  dropped  in  the  stream  and  was  gone 
before  I  had  recovered  my  wits.  (I  scarce 
know  what  I  write,  so  hideous  a  Niagara  of 
rain  roars,  shouts,  and  demonizes  on  the 
iron  roof  —  it  is  pitch  dark  too  —  the  lamp 
lit  at  5 !)  It  was  a  blessed  thing  when  I 
struck  my  own  road ;  and  I  got  home,  neat 
for  lunch  time,  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful mud  statues  ever  witnessed.  In  the 
afternoon  I  tried  again,  going  up  the 
other  path  by  the  garden,  but  was  early 
drowned  out ;  came  home,  plotted  out  what 
I  had  done,  and  then  wrote  this  truck  to 
you. 

Fanny  has  been  quite  ill  with  ear-ache. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  79 

She  won't  go,1  hating  the  sea  at  this  wild  189° 
season;  I  don't  like  to  leave  her;  so  it 
drones  on,  steamer  after  steamer,  and  I 
guess  it  '11  end  by  no  one  going  at  all. 
She  is  in  a  dreadful  misfortune  at  this 
hour;  a  case  of  kerosene  having  burst  in 
the  kitchen.  A  little  while  ago  it  was  the 
carpenter's  horse  that  trod  in  a  nest  of 
fourteen  eggs,  and  made  an  omelette  of 
our  hopes.  The  farmer's  lot  is  not  a 
happy  one.  And  it  looks  like  some  real 
uncompromising  bad  weather  too.  I  wish 
Fanny's  ear  were  well.  Think  of  parties 
in  Monuments !  think  of  me  in  Skerryvore, 
and  now  of  this.  It  don't  look  like  a  part 
of  the  same  universe  to  me.  Work  is  quite 
laid  aside;  I  have  worked  myself  right 
out. 

Christmas  Eve. 

Yesterday,  who  could  write?  My  wife 
near  crazy  with  ear-ache ;  the  rain  descend- 
ing in  white  crystal  rods  and  playing  hell's 
tattoo,  like  a  tutti  of  battering  rams,  on 

1  On  a  projected  expedition  to  Sydney. 


80  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  our  sheet-iron  roof;  the  wind  passing  high 
overhead  with  a  strange  dumb  mutter,  or 
striking  us  full,  so  that  all  the  huge  trees 
in  the  paddock  cried  aloud,  and  wrung 
their  hands,  and  brandished  their  vast 
arms.  The  horses  stood  in  the  shed  like 
things  stupid.  The  sea  and  the  flagship 
lying  on  the  jaws  of  the  bay  vanished  in 
sheer  rain.  All  day  it  lasted;  I  locked  up 
my  papers  in  the  iron  box,  in  case  it  was  a 
hurricane,  and  the  house  might  go.  We 
went  to  bed  with  mighty  uncertain  feel- 
ings; far  more  than  on  shipboard,  where 
you  have  only  drowning  ahead  —  whereas 
here  you  have  a  smash  of  beams,  a  shower 
of  sheet-iron,  and  a  blind  race  in  the  dark 
and  through  a  whirlwind  for  the  shelter  of 
an  unfinished  stable  —  and  my  wife  with 
ear-ache!  Well,  well,  this  morning,  we 
had  word  from  Apia;  a  hurricane  was 
looked  for,  the  ships  were  to  leave  the  bay 
by  10  A.  M.  ;  it  is  now  3.30,  and  the  flag- 
ship is  still  a  fixture,  and  the  wind  round 
in  the  blessed  east,  so  I  suppose  the  danger 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  8  I 

is  over.  But  heaven  is  still  laden;  the  1890 
day  dim,  with  frequent  rattling  bucketfuls 
of  rain;  and  just  this  moment  (as  I  write) 
a  squall  went  overhead,  scarce  striking  us, 
with  that  singular,  solemn  noise  of  its 
passage,  which  is  to  me  dreadful.  I  have 
always  feared  the  sound  of  wind  beyond 
everything.  In  my  hell  it  would  always 
blow  a  gale. 

I  have  been  all  day  correcting  proofs, 
and  making  out  a  new  plan  for  our  house. 
The  other  was  too  dear  to  be  built  now, 
and  it  was  a  hard  task  to  make  a  smaller 
house  that  would  suffice  for  the  present, 
and  not  be  a  mere  waste  of  money  in  the 
future.  I  believe  I  have  succeeded;  I 
have  taken  care  of  my  study  anyway. 

Two  favours  I  want  to  ask  of  you. 
First,  I  wish  you  to  get  "  Pioneering  in 
New  Guinea,"  by  Jo  Chalmers.  It  's  a 
missionary  book,  and  has  less  pretensions 
to  be  literature  than  Spurgeon's  sermons. 
Yet  I  think  even  through  that,  you  will 
see  some  of  the  traits  of  the  hero  that 

VOL.  I.  —  6 


82  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  wrote  it;  a  man  that  took  me  fairly  by 
storm  for  the  most  attractive,  simple, 
brave,  and  interesting  man  in  the  whole 
Pacific.  He  is  away  now  to  go  up  the  Fly 
River;  a  desperate  venture,  it  is  thought; 
he  is  quite  a  Livingstone  card. 

Second,  try  and  keep  yourself  free  next 
winter;  and  if  my  means  can  be  stretched 
so  far,  I  '11  come  to  Egypt  and  we  '11  meet 
at  Shepheard's  Hotel,  and  you  '11  put  me 
in  my  place,  which  I  stand  in  need  of  badly 
by  this  time.  Lord,  what  bully  times !  I 
suppose  I  '11  come  per  British  Asia,  or 
whatever  you  call  it,  and  avoid  all  cold, 
and  might  be  in  Egypt  about  November  as 
ever  was  —  eleven  months  from  now  or 
rather  less.  But  do  not  let  us  count  our 
chickens. 

Last  night  three  piglings  were  stolen 
from  one  of  our  pig-pens.  The  great 
Lafaele  appeared  to  my  wife  uneasy,  so 
she  engaged  him  in  conversation  on  the 
subject,  and  played  upon  him  the  following 
engaging  trick.  You  advance  your  two 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  83 

forefingers  towards  the  sitter's  eyes;  he 
closes  them,  whereupon  you  substitute  (on 
his  eyelids)  the  fore  and  middle  fingers  of 
the  left  hand;  and  with  your  right  (which 
he  supposes  engaged)  you  tap  him  on  the 
head  and  back.  When  you  let  him  open 
his  eyes,  he  sees  you  withdrawing  the  two 
forefingers.  "What  that?"  asked  Lafaele. 
"  My  devil,"  says  Fanny.  "  I  wake  urn,  my 
devil.  All  right  now.  He  go  catch  the 
man  that  catch  my  pig. "  About  an  hour 
afterwards,  Lafaele  came  for  further  par- 
ticulars. "Oh,  all  right,"  my  wife  says. 
"By  and  by,  that  man  he  sleep,  devil  go 
sleep  same  place.  By  and  by,  that  man 
plenty  sick.  I  no  care.  What  for  he  take 
my  pig?"  Lafaele  cares  plenty;  I  don't 
think  he  is  the  man,  though  he  may  be; 
but  he  knows  him,  and  most  likely  will  eat 
some  of  that  pig  to-night.  He  will  not 
eat  with  relish. 


84  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

Saturday,  2"]th. 

1890  It  cleared  up  suddenly  after  dinner,  and 
my  wife  and  I  saddled  up  and  off  to  Apia, 
whence  we  did  not  return  till  yesterday 
morning.  Christmas  Day  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  our  party  at  table.  H.  J.  Moors 
at  one  end  with  my  wife,  I  at  the  other 
with  Mrs.  M.  between  us  two  native 
women,  Carruthers  the  lawyer,  Moors 's 
two  shop-boys  —  Walters  and  A.  M.  the 
quadroon  —  and  the  guests  of  the  evening, 
Shirley  Baker,  the  defamed  and  much- 
accused  man  of  Tonga,  and  his  son,  with 
the  artificial  joint  to  his  arm  —  where  the 
assassins  shot  him  in  shooting  at  his 
father.  Baker's  appearance  is  not  unlike 
John  Bull  on  a  cartoon;  he  is  highly 
interesting  to  speak  to,  as  I  had  expected ; 
I  found  he  and  I  had  many  common  in- 
terests, and  were  engaged  in  puzzling  over 
many  of  the  same  difficulties.  After  dinner 
it  was  quite  pretty  to  see  our  Christmas 
party,  it  was  so  easily  pleased  and  prettily 
behaved.  In  the  morning  I  should  say  I 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  85 

had  been  to  lunch  at  the  German  consulate, 
where  I  had  as  usual  a  very  pleasant  time. 
I  shall  miss  Dr.  Stuebel 1  much  when  he 
leaves,  and  when  Adams  and  Lafarge  go 
also,  it  will  be  a  great  blow.  I  am  getting 
spoiled  with  all  this  good  society. 

On  Friday  morning,  I  had  to  be  at  my 
house  affairs  before  seven;  and  they  kept 
me  in  Apia  till  past  ten,  disputing,  and 
consulting  about  brick  and  stone  and  native 
and  hydraulic  lime,  and  cement  and  sand, 
and  all  sorts  of  otiose  details  about  the 
chimney  —  just  what  I  fled  from  in  my 
father's  office  twenty  years  ago;  I  should 
have  made  a  languid  engineer.  Rode  up 
with  the  carpenter.  Ah,  my  wicked  Jack ! 
on  Christmas  Eve,  as  I  was  taking  the 
saddle  bag  off,  he  kicked  at  me,  and  fetched 
me  too,  right  on  the  shin.  On  Friday, 
being  annoyed  at  the  carpenter's  horse 
having  a  longer  trot,  he  uttered  a  shrill 

1  See  A  Footnote  to  History  for  more  in  praise  of  Dr. 
Stuebel,  and  of  his  exceptional  deserts  among  white  officials 
ia  Samoa. 


86  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89°  cry  and  tried  to  bite  him!  Alas,  alas, 
these  are  like  old  days;  my  dear  Jack  is  a 
Bogue,1  but  I  cannot  strangle  Jack  into 
submission. 

I  have  given  up  the  big  house  for  just 
now ;  we  go  ahead  right  away  with  a  small 
one,  which  should  be  ready  in  two  months, 
and  I  suppose  will  suffice  for  just  now. 

0  I  know  I  haven't  told  you  about  our 
aitn,    have    I?     It   is  a   lady,  Aitu  fafine : 
she  lives  on  the  mountain-side;  her  pres- 
ence is  heralded  by  the  sound  of  a  gust  of 
wind;  a  sound  very  common   in  the  high 
woods ;  when   she   catches   you,    I  do  not 
know  what  happens;    but   in  practice  she 
is   avoided,  so    I   suppose   she  does    more 
than  pass  the  time  of  day.     The  great  aitn 
Saumai-afe  was  once  a  living  woman ;  and 
became  an  aitu,  no  one  understands  how; 
she  lives  in  a  stream  at  the  well-head,  her 
hair  is  red,  she  appears  as  a  lovely  young 
lady,    her    bust    particularly    admired,    to 

1  The  wicked  Skye-terrier  of  Bournemouth  days,  cele- 
brated in  the  essay  On  the  Character  of  Dogs. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  S/ 

handsome  young  men;  these  die,  her  love  l89° 
being  fatal ;  — as  a  handsome  youth  she  has 
been  known  to  court  damsels  with  the  like 
result,  but  this  is  very  rare;  as  an  old 
crone  she  goes  about  and  asks  for  water, 
and  woe  to  them  who  are  uncivil !  Sanmai- 
afe  means  literally,  "Come  here  a  thous- 
and!" A  good  name  for  a  lady  of  her 
manners.  My  aitufafine  does  not  seem  to 
be  in  the  same  line  of  business.  It  is 
unsafe  to  be  a  handsome  youth  in  Samoa; 
a  young  man  died  from  her  favours  last 
month  —  so  we  said  on  this  side  of  the 
island ;  on  the  other,  where  he  died,  it  was 
not  so  certain.  I,  for  one,  blame  it  on 
Madam  Saumai-afe  without  hesitation. 

Example  of  the  farmer's  sorrows.  I 
slipped  out  on  the  balcony  a  moment  ago. 
It  is  a  lovely  morning,  cloudless,  smoking 
hot,  the  breeze  not  yet  arisen.  Looking 
west,  in  front  of  our  new  house,  I  saw  two 
heads  of  Indian  corn  wagging,  and  the  rest 
and  all  nature  stock  still.  As  I  looked, 
one  of  the  stalks  subsided  and  disappeared. 


88  VAILTMA   LETTERS. 

1890  I  dashed  out  to  the  rescue;  two  small  pigs 
were  deep  in  the  grass  —  quite  hid  till 
within  a  few  yards  —  gently  but  swiftly 
demolishing  my  harvest.  Never  be  a 
farmer. 

I2.30/.  m. 

I  while  away  the  moments  of  digestion 
by  drawing  you  a  faithful  picture  of  my 
morning.  When  I  had  done  writing  as 
above  it  was  time  to  clean  our  house. 
When  I  am  working,  it  falls  on  my  wife 
alone,  but  to-day  we  had  it  between  us; 
she  did  the  bedroom,  I  the  sitting-room, 
in  fifty-seven  minutes  of  really  most  un- 
palatable labour.  Then  I  changed  every 
stitch,  for  I  was  wet  through,  and  sat  down 
and  played  on  my  pipe  till  dinner  was 
ready,  mighty  pleased  to  be  in  a  mildly 
habitable  spot  once  more.  The  house  had 
been  neglected  for  near  a  week,  and  was  a 
hideous  spot ;  my  wife's  ear  and  our  visit 
to  Apia  being  the  causes :  our  Paul  we 
prefer  not  to  see  upon  that  theatre,  and 
God  knows  he  has  plenty  to  do  elsewhere. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  89 

I  am  glad  to  look  out  of  my  back  door 
and  see  the  boys  smoothing  the  foundations 
of  the  new  house;  this  is  all  very  jolly,  but 
six  months  of  it  has  satisfied  me;  we  have 
too  many  things  for  such  close  quarters;  to 
work  in  the  midst  of  all  the  myriad  mis- 
fortunes of  the  planter's  life,  seated  in  a 
Dyonisius'  (can't  spell  him)  ear,  whence  I 
catch  every  complaint,  mishap  and  con- 
tention, is  besides  the  devil;  and  the  hope 
of  a  cave  of  my  own  inspires  me  with  lust. 
O  to  be  able  to  shut  my  own  door  and  make 
my  own  confusion !  O  to  have  the  brown 
paper  and  the  matches  and  "make  a  hell  of 
my  own  "  once  more ! 

I  do  not  bother  you  with  all  my  troubles 
in  these  outpourings ;  the  troubles  of  the 
farmer  are  inspiriting  —  they  are  like  diffi- 
culties out  hunting  —  a  fellow  rages  at  the 
time  .  and  rejoices  to  recall  and  to  com- 
memorate them.  My  troubles  have  been 
financial.  It  is  hard  to  arrange  wisely 
interests  so  distributed.  America,  Eng- 
land, Samoa,  Sydney,  everywhere  I  have 


90  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1890  an  end  of  liability  hanging  out  and  some 
shelf  of  credit  hard  by;  and  to  juggle  all 
these  and  build  a  dwelling-place  here,  and 
check  expense  —  a  thing  I  am  ill  fitted  for 
—  you  can  conceive  what  a  night-mare  it  is 
at  times.  Then  God  knows  I  have  not 
been  idle.  But  since  The  Master^  nothing 
has  come  to  raise  any  coins.  I  believe  the 
springs  are  dry  at  home,  and  now  I  am 
worked  out,  and  can  no  more  at  all.  A 
holiday  is  required. 

Dec.  2$th.  I  have  got  unexpectedly  to 
work  again,  and  feel  quite  dandy.  Good- 
bye. 

R.   L.   S. 

1  Of  Ballantrae. 


IV 


S.  Lubeck,  betwe  >n  Apia  and  Sydney. 
Jan.  \~th,  1891. 

MY  DEAR  COLVIX,  —  The  Faamasino 
Sili,  or  Chief  Justice,  to  speak  your  low 
language,  has  arrived.  I  had  ridden  down 
with  Henry  and  Lafaele;  the  sun  was 
down,  the  night  was  close  at  hand,  so  we 
rode  fast;  just  as  I  came  to  the  corner  of 
the  road  before  Apia,  I  heard  a  gun  fire; 
and  lo,  there  was  a  great  crowd  at  the  end 
of  the  pier,  and  the  troops  out,  and  a  chief 
or  two  in  the  height  of  Samoa  finery,  and 
Seumanu  coming  in  his  boat  (the  oarsmen 
all  in  uniform),  bringing  the  Faamasino 
Sili  sure  enough.  It  was  lucky  he  was  no 
longer;  the  natives  would  not  have  waited 
many  weeks.  But  think  of  it,  as  I  sat  in 
the  saddle  at  the  outside  of  the  crowd 
(looking,  the  English  consul  said,  as  if  I 
were  commanding  the  manoeuvres),  I  was 


92  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  nearly  knocked  down  by  a  stampede  of  the 
three  consuls;  they  had  been  waiting  their 
guest  at  the  Matafele  end,  and  some 
wretched  intrigue  among  the  whites  had 
brought  him  to  Apia,  and  the  consuls  had 
to  run  all  the  length  of  the  town  and  come 
too  late. 

The  next  day  was  a  long  one;  I  was  at  a 
marriage  of  G.  the  banker  to  Fanua,  the 
virgin  of  Apia.  Bride  and  bridesmaids 
were  all  in  the  old  high  dress;  the  ladies 
were  all  native;  the  men,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Seumanu,  all  white. 

It  was  quite  a  pleasant  party,  and  while 
we  were  waiting,  we  had  a  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  public  reception  of  the  Chief  Justice. 
The  best  part  of  it  were  some  natives  in 
war  array;  with  blacked  faces,  turbans, 
tapa  kilts,  and  guns,  they  looked  very 
manly  and  purposelike.  No,  the  best  part 
was  poor  old  drunken  Joe,  the  Portuguese 
boatman,  who  seemed  to  think  himself 
specially  charged  with  the  reception,  and 
ended  by  falling  on  his  knees  before  the 


VAILIMA  LETTERS.  93 

Chief  Justice  on  the  end  of  the  pier  and  in    l89* 
full  view  of  the  whole  town  and  bay.     The 
natives   pelted   him   with  rotten  bananas; 
how  the  Chief  Justice  took  it  I  was  too  far 
off  to  see;  but  it  was  highly  absurd. 

I  have  commemorated  my  genial  hopes 
for  the  regimen  of  the  Faamasino  S.ili  in 
the  following  canine  verses,  which,  if  you 
at  all  guess  how  to  read  them,  are  very 
pretty  in  movement,  and  (unless  he  be  a 
mighty  good  man)  too  true  in  sense. 

We're  quarrelling,  the  villages,  we've  beaten  the  wooden 

drums, 

Sa  femisai  o  nu'u,  sa  taia  o  pate, 
Is  expounded  there  by  the  justice, 
Ua  Atuatuvale  a  le  faamasino  e, 
The  chief  justice,  the  terrified  justice, 
Le  faamasino  sili,  le  faamasino  se, 
Is  on  the  point  of  running  away  the  justice, 
O  le  a  solasola  le  faamasino  e, 

The  justice  denied  any  influence,  the  terrified  justice, 
O  le  faamasino  le  ai  a,  le  faamasino  se, 
O  le  a  solasola  le  faamasino  e. 

Well,  after  this  excursion  into  tongues 
that  have  never  been  alive  —  though  I 
assure  you  we  have  one  capital  book  in  the 


94  VAILLMA   LETTERS. 

language,  a  book  of  fables  by  an  old  mis- 
sionary of  the  unpromising  name  of  Pratt, 
which  is  simply  the  best  and  the  most 
literary  version  of  the  fables  known  to  me. 
I  suppose  I  should  except  La  Fontaine, 
but  L.  F.  takes  a  long  time ;  these  are 
brief  as  the  books  of  our  childhood,  and 
full  of  wit  and  literary  colour;  and  O, 
Colvin,  what  a  tongue  it  would  be  to  write, 
if  one  only  knew  it  —  and  there  were  only 
readers.  Its  curse  in  common  use  is  an 
incredible  left-handed  wordiness;  but  in 
the  hands  of  a  man  like  Pratt  it  is  succinct 
as  Latin,  compact  of  long  rolling  polysyl- 
lables and  little  and  often  pithy  particles, 
and  for  beauty  of  sound  a  dream.  Listen, 
I  quote  from  Pratt  — this  is  good  Samoan, 
not  canine  — 

123  41 

O  le  afa,    uataaliliai    leuluvao,     ua  pa  mai     lefaititili. 

I  almost  wa,  2  the  two  a's  just  distin- 
guished, 3  the  at  is  practically  suffixed  to 
the  verb,  4  almost  vow.  The  excursion 
has  prolonged  itself. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  95 

I  started  by  the  Liibcck  to  meet  Lloyd    1891 
and  my  mother;  there  were  many  reasons 
for  and  against ;  the  main    reason  against 
was    the    leaving    of    Fanny   alone    in    her 
blessed  cabin,    which    has   been   somewhat 

remedied  by  my  carter,  Mr. ,   putting 

up  in  the  stable  and  messing  with  her;  but 
perhaps  desire  of  change  decided  me  not 
well,  though  I  do  think  I  ought  to  see  an 
occulist,  being  very  blind  indeed,  and 
sometimes  unable  to  read.  Anyway  I  left, 
the  only  cabin  passenger,  four  and  a  kid  in 
the  second  cabin,  and  a  dear  voyage  it  had 
like  to  have  proved.  Close  to  Fiji  (choose 
a  worse  place  on  the  map)  we  broke  our 
shaft  early  one  morning;  and  when  or 
where  we  might  expect  to  fetch  land  or 
meet  with  any  ship,  I  would  like  you  to 
tell  me.  The  Pacific  is  absolutely  desert. 
I  have  sailed  there  now  some  years ;  and 
scarce  ever  seen  a  ship  except  in  port  or 
close  by;  I  think  twice.  It  was  the  hurri- 
cane season  besides  and  hurricane  waters. 
Well,  our  chief  engineer  got  the  shaft  —  it 


96  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  Was  the  middle  crank  shaft  —  mended; 
thrice  it  was  mended,  and  twice  broke 
down;  but  now  keeps  up  —  only  we  dare 
not  stop,  for  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
start  again.  The  captain  in  the  meanwhile 
crowded  her  with  sail ;  fifteen  sails  in  all, 
every  stay  being  gratified  with  a  stay-sail, 
a  boat-boom  sent  aloft  for  a  maintop- 
gallant  yard,  and  the  derrick  of  a  crane 
brought  in  service  as  bowsprit.  All  the 
time  we  have  had  a  fine,  fair  wind  and  a 
smooth  sea;  to-day  at  noon  our  run  was 
203  miles  (if  you  please!),  and  we  are 
within  some  360  miles  of  Sydney.  Prob- 
ably there  has  never  been  a  more  gallant 
success;  and  I  can  say  honestly  it  was  well 
worked  for.  No  flurry,  no  high  words,  no 
long  faces;  only  hard  work  and  honest 
thought;  a  pleasant,  manly  business  to  be 
present  at.  All  the  chances  were  we 
might  have  been  six  weeks  —  ay,  or  three 
months  at  sea  —  or  never  turned  up  at  all, 
and  now  it  looks  as  though  we  should  reach 
our  destination  some  five  days  too  late. 


[On  Board  Ship  between  Sydney  and  Apia, 
Feb.  1891.] 

MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  — I\\Q  Janet  Nicoll  1891 
stuff  was  rather  worse  than  I  had  looked 
for;  you  have  picked  out  all  that  is  fit  to 
stand,  bar  two  others  (which  I  don't  dis- 
like)—  the  Port  of  Entry  and  the  House 
of  Temoana;  that  is  for  a  present  opinion; 
I  may  condemn  these  also  ere  I  have  done. 
By  this  time  you  should  have  another 
Marquesan  letter,  the  worst  of  the  lot,  I 
think;  and  seven  Paumotu  letters,  which 
are  not  far  out  of  the  vein,  as  I  wish  it ;  I 
am  in  hopes  the  Hawaiian  stuff  is  better 
yet:  time  will  show,  and  time  will  make 
perfect.  Is  something  of  this  sort  prac- 
ticable for  the  dedication? 

TERRA    MARIQUE 

PER    PERICULA    PER    ARDUA 

AMICAE    COMITI 

D.  D. 

AMANS    VIATOR 
VOL.  I.  —  7 


98  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  'T  is  a  first  shot  concocted  this  morning 
in  my  berth:  I  had  always  before  been 
trying  it  in  English,  which  insisted  on 
being  either  insignificant  or  fulsome :  I 
cannot  think  of  a  better  word  than  comes, 
there  being  not  the  shadow  of  a  Latin 
book  on  board;  yet  sure  there  is  some 
other.  Then  viator  (though  it  sounds  all 
right)  is  doubtful ;  it  has  too  much,  per- 
haps, the  sense  of  wayfarer  ?  Last,  will  it 
mark  sufficiently  that  I  mean  my  wife? 
And  first,  how  about  blunders?  I  scarce 
wish  it  longer. 

Have  had  a  swingeing  sharp  attack  in 
Sydney;  beating  the  fields  for  two  nights, 
Saturday  and  Sunday.  Wednesday  was 
brought  on  board,  tel  quel,  a  wonderful 
wreck;  and  now,  Wednesday  week,  am  a 
good  deal  picked  up,  but  yet  not  quite  a 
Samson,  being  still  groggy  afoot  and  vague 
in  the  head.  My  chess,  for  instance,  which 
is  usually  a  pretty  strong  game,  and  defies 
all  rivalry  aboard,  is  vacillating,  devoid  of 
resource  and  observation,  and  hitherto  not 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  99 

covered  with  customary  laurels.  As  for  l89* 
work,  it  is  impossible.  We  shall  be  in 
the  saddle  before  long,  no  doubt,  and  the 
pen  once  more  couched.  You  must  not 
expect  a  letter  under  these  circumstances, 
but  be  very  thankful  for  a  note.  Once  at 
Samoa,  I  shall  try  to  resume  my  late  excel- 
lent habits,  and  delight  you  with  journals, 
you  unaccustomed,  I  unaccustomed;  but  it 
is  never  too  late  to  mend. 

It  is  vastly  annoying  that  I  cannot  go 
even  to  Sydney  without  an  attack;  and 
heaven  knows  my  life  was  anodyne.  I  only 
once  dined  with  anybody;  at  the  club  with 
Wise;  worked  all  morning  —  a  terrible 
dead  pull ;  a  month  only  produced  the 
imperfect  embryos  of  two  chapters ;  lunched 
in  the  boarding-house,  played  on  my  pipe; 
went  out  and  did  some  of  my  messages; 
dined  at  a  French  restaurant,  and  returned 
to  play  draughts,  whist,  or  Van  John  with 
my  family.  This  makes  a  cheery  life  after 
Samoa;  but  it  isn't  what  you  call  burning 
the  candle  at  both  ends,  is  it?  (It  appears 


IOO  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891    to  me  not  one  word  of  this  letter  will  be 
Feb. 

legible  by  the  time  I  am  done  with  it,  this 

dreadful  ink  rubs  off.)  I  have  a  strange 
kind  of  novel  under  construction;  it  begins 
about  1660  and  ends  1830,  or  perhaps  I 
may  continue  it  to  1875  or  so,  with  another 
life.  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six  gen- 
erations, perhaps  seven,  figure  therein; 
two  of  my  old  stories,  "  Delafield  "  and 
"Shovel,"  are  incorporated;  it  is  to  be  told 
in  the  third  person,  with  some  of  the 
brevity  of  history,  some  of  the  detail  of 
romance.  The  Shovels  of  Newton  French 
will  be  the  name.  The  idea  is  an  old  one; 
it  was  brought  to  birth  by  an  accident;  a 
friend  in  the  islands  who  picked  up  F. 
Jenkin,1  read  a  part,  and  said:  "Do  you 
know,  that's  a  strange  book?  I  like  it; 

1  Memoir  of  Fleeming  Jenkin,  by  R.  L.  S.  Prefixed  to 
Papers  Literary,  Scientific,  etc.,  by  the  late  Fleeming  Jenkin, 
F.R.S.,  LL.D. ;  2  vols.  London,  Longmans,  1887.  The 
first  chapters  of  this  memoir  consist  of  a  genealogical 
history  of  the  family.  Of  "  Delafield  "  I  never  heard  ; 
the  plan  of  "  Shovel,"  which  was  to  be  in  great  part  a 
story  of  the  Peninsula  War,  had  been  sketched  out  as 
long  ago  as  the  seventies.. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  IOI 

I  don't  believe  the  public  will;  but  I  like    l89* 
it."     He  thought  it  was  a  novel!     "Very 
well,"  said  I,  "we'll  see  whether  the  pub- 
lic  will    like   it  or   not;    they  shall   have 
the  chance." 

Yours  ever, 

R.  L.  S. 


VI 

Friday,  March  igfk. 

1891  MY  DEAR  S.  C.,  — You  probably  expect 
that  now  I  am  back  at  Vailima  I  shall 
resume  the  practice  of  the  diary  letter.  A 
good  deal  is  changed.  We  are  more; 
solitude  does  not  attend  me  as  before;  the 
night  is  passed  playing  Van  John  for 
shells ;  and,  what  is  not  less  important,  I 
have  just  recovered  from  a  severe  illness, 
and  am  easily  tired. 

I  will  give  you  to-day.  I  sleep  now  in 
one  of  the  lower  rooms  of  the  new  house, 
where  my  wife  has  recently  joined  me. 
We  have  two  beds,  an  empty  case  for  a 
table,  a  chair,  a  tin  basin,  a  bucket  and  a 
jug;  next  door  in  the  dining-room,  the 
carpenters  camp  on  the  floor,  which  is 
covered  with  their  mosquito  nets.  Before 
the  sun  rises,  at  5.45  or  5.50,  Paul  brings 
me  tea,  bread,  and  a  couple  of  eggs;  and 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  1 03 

by  about  six  I  am  at  work.  I  work  in  bed  1891 
—  my  bed  is  of  mats,  no  mattress,  sheets, 
or  filth  —  mats,  a  pillow,  and  a  blanket  — 
and  put  in  some  three  hours.  It  was  9.5 
this  morning  when  I  set  off  to  the  stream- 
side  to  my  weeding;  where  I  toiled,  man- 
uring the  ground  with  the  best  enricher, 
human  sweat,  till  the  conch-shell  was 
blown  from  our  verandah  at  10.30.  At 
eleven  we  dine;  about  half-past  twelve  I 
tried  (by  exception)  to  work  again,  could 
make  nothing  on't,  and  by  one  was  on  my 
way  to  the  weeding,  where  I  wrought  till 
three.  Half-past  five  is  our  next  meal, 
and  I  read  Flaubert's  Letters  till  the  hour 
came  round;  dined,  and  then,  Fanny  hav- 
ing a  cold,  and  I  being  tired,  came  over  to 
my  den  in  the  unfinished  house,  where  I 
now  write  to  you,  to  the  tune  of  the 
carpenters'  voices,  and  by  the  light  —  I 
crave  your  pardon  —  by  the  twilight  of 
three  vile  candles  filtered  through  the 
medium  of  my  mosquito  bar.  Bad  ink 
being  of  the  party,  I  write  quite  blindfold, 


IO4  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89i  and  can  only  hope  you  may  be  granted  to 
read  that  which  I  am  unable  to  see  while 
writing. 

I  said  I  was  tired;  it  is  a  mild  phrase; 
my  back  aches  like  toothache;  when  I  shut 
my  eyes  to  sleep,  I  know  I  shall  see  before 
them  —  a  phenomenon  to  which  both  Fanny 
and  I  are  quite  accustomed  —  endless  vivid 
deeps  of  grass  and  weed,  each  plant  par- 
ticular and  distinct,  so  that  I  shall  lie 
inert  in  body,  and  transact  for  hours  the 
mental  part  of  my  day  business,  choosing 
the  noxious  from  the  useful.  And  in  my 
dreams  I  shall  be  hauling  on  recalcitrants, 
and  suffering  stings  from  nettles,  stabs 
from  citron  thorns,  fiery  bites  from  ants, 
sickening  resistances  of  mud  and  slime, 
evasions  of  slimy  roots,  dead  weight  of 
heat,  sudden  puffs  of  air,  sudden  starts 
from  bird-calls  in  the  contiguous  forest  — 
some  mimicking  my  name,  some  laughter, 
some  the  signal  of  a  whistle,  and  living 
over  again  at  large  the  business  of  my 
day. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  10$ 

Though  I  write  so  little,  I  pass  all  my  1891 
hours  of  field-work  in  continual  converse 
and  imaginary  correspondence.  I  scarce 
pull  up  a  weed,  but  I  invent  a  sentence  on 
the  matter  to  yourself;  it  does  not  get 
written ;  autant  en  emportent  les  vents;  but 
the  intent  is  there,  and  for  me  (in  some 
sort)  the  companionship.  To-day,  for  in- 
stance, we  had  a  great  talk.  I  was  toil- 
ing, the  sweat  dripping  from  my  nose,  in 
the  hot  fit  after  a  squall  of  rain  :  methought 
you  asked  me  —  frankly,  was  I  happy. 
Happy  (said  I);  I  was  only  happy  once; 
that  was  at  Hyeres ;  it  came  to  an  end 
from  a  variety  of  reasons,  decline  of  health, 
change  of  place,  increase  of  money,  age 
with  his  stealing  steps;  since  then,  as 
before  then,  I  know  not  what  it  means. 
But  I  know  pleasure  still;  pleasure  with  a 
thousand  faces,  and  none  perfect,  a  thou- 
sand tongues  all  broken,  a  thousand  hands, 
and  all  of  them  with  scratching  nails. 
High  among  these  I  place  this  delight  of 
weeding  out  here  alone  by  the  garrulous 


106  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89i  water,  under  the  silence  of  the  high  wood, 
broken  by  incongruous  sounds  of  birds. 
And  take  my  life  all  through,  look  at  it 
fore  and  back,  and  upside  down,  —  though 
I  would  very  fain  change  myself  —  I  would 
not  change  my  circumstances,  unless  it 
were  to  bring  you  here.  And  yet  God 
knows  perhaps  this  intercourse  of  writing 
serves  as  well ;  and  I  wonder,  were  you 
here  indeed,  would  I  commune  so  con- 
tinually with  the  thought  of  you.  I  say  I 
wonder  for  a  form ;  I  know,  and  I  know  I 
should  not. 

So  far  and  much  further,  the  conversa- 
tion went,  while  I  groped  in  slime  after 
viscous  roots,  nursing  and  sparing  little 
spears  of  grass,  and  retreating  (even  with 
outcry)  from  the  prod  of  the  wild  lime.  I 
wonder  if  any  one  had  ever  the  same  atti- 
tude to  Nature  as  I  hold,  and  have  held 
for  so  long?  This  business  fascinates  me 
like  a  tune  or  a  passion;  yet  all  the  while 
I  thrill  with  a  strong  distaste.  The  horror 
of  the  thing,  objective  and  subjective,  is 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  IO/ 

always  present  to  my  mind;  the  horror  of   1891 

Mar 

creeping  things,  a  superstitious  horror  of 
the  void  and  the  powers  about  me,  the 
horror  of  my  own  devastation  and  continual 
murders.  The  life  of  the  plants  comes 
through  my  finger-tips,  their  struggles  go 
to  my  heart  like  supplications.  I  feel  my- 
self blood-boltered;  then  I  look  back  on 
my  cleared  grass,  and  count  myself  an  ally 
in  a  fair  quarrel,  and  make  stout  my  heart. 

It  is  but  a  little  while  since  I  lay  sick  in 
Sydney,  beating  the  fields  about  the  navy 
and  Dean  Swift  and  Dryden's  Latin  hymns; 
judge  if  I  love  this  reinvigorating  climate, 
where  I  can  already  toil  till  my  head 
swims  and  every  string  in  the  poor  jump- 
ing Jack  (as  he  now  lies  in  bed)  aches  with 
a  kind  of  yearning  strain,  difficult  to  suffer 
in  quiescence. 

As  for  my  damned  literature,1  God 
knows  what  a  business  it  is,  grinding 
along  without  a  scrap  of  inspiration  or  a 
note  of  style.  But  it  has  to  be  ground,  and 

1    The  South  Sea  Letters. 


IO8  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  the  mill  grinds  exceeding  slowly  though  not 
particularly  small.  The  last  two  chapters 
have  taken  me  considerably  over  a  month, 
and  they  are  still  beneath  pity.  This  I 
cannot  continue,  time  not  sufficing;  and 
the  next  will  just  have  to  be  worse.  All 
the  good  I  can  express  is  just  this;  some 
day,  when  style  revisits  me,  they  will  be 
excellent  matter  to  rewrite.  Of  course, 
my  old  cure  of  a  change  of  work  would 
probably  answer,  but  I  cannot  take  it  now. 
The  treadmill  turns;  and  with  a  kind  of 
desperate  cheerfulness,  I  mount  the  idle 
stair.  I  have  n't  the  least  anxiety  about 
the  book;  unless  I  die,  I  shall  find  the 
time  to  make  it  good ;  but  the  Lord 
deliver  me  from  the  thought  of  the  Letters! 
However,  the  Lord  has  other  things  on 
hand;  and  about  six  to-morrow,  I  shall 
resume  the  consideration  practically,  and 
face  (as  best  I  may)  the  fact  of  my  incom- 
petence and  disaffection  to  the  task.  Toil 
I  do  not  spare;  but  fortune  refuses  me 
success.  We  can  do  more,  Whatever-his- 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  IO9 

name-was,    we    can    deserve    it.      But    my    l89I 

J     Mar. 

misdesert  began  long  since,  by  the  accep- 
tation of  a  bargain  quite  unsuitable  to  all 
my  methods.1 

To-day  I  have  had  a  queer  experience. 
My  carter  has  from  the  first  been  using  my 
horses  for  his  own  ends;  when  I  left  for 
Sydney,  I  put  him  on  his  honour  to  cease, 
and  my  back  was  scarce  turned  ere  he  was 
forfeit.  I  have  only  been  waiting  to  dis- 
charge him;  and  to-day  an  occasion  arose. 
I  am  so  much  the  old  wan  virulent,  so 
readily  stumble  into  anger,  that  I  gave  a 
deal  of  consideration  to  my  bearing,  and 
decided  at  last  to  imitate  that  of  the  late 

.      Whatever   he   might    have   to    say, 

this  eminently  effective  controversialist 
maintained  a  frozen  demeanour  and  a 
jeering  smile.  The  frozen  demeanour  is 
beyond  my  reach;  but  I  could  try  the  jeer- 
ing smile;  did  so,  perceived  its  efficacy, 

1  The  price  advanced  for  these  Letters  was  among  the 
considerations  which  originally  induced  the  writer  to  set 
out  on  his  Pacific  voyage. 


1 10  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  kept  in  consequence  my  temper,  and  got 
rid  of  my  friend,  myself  composed  and 
smiling  still,  he  white  and  shaking  like  an 
aspen.  He  could  explain  everything;  I 
said  it  did  not  interest  me.  He  said  he 
had  enemies ;  I  said  nothing  was  more 
likely.  He  said  he  was  calumniated ;  with 
all  my  heart,  said  I,  but  there  are  so  many 
liars,  that  I  find  it  safer  to  believe  them. 
He  said,  in  justice  to  himself,  he  must 
explain :  God  forbid,  I  should  interfere 
with  you,  said  I,  with  the  same  factitious 
grin,  but  it  can  change  nothing.  So  I 
kept  my  temper,  rid  myself  of  an  unfaith- 
ful servant,  found  a  method  of  conducting 
similar  interviews  in  the  future,  and  fell 
in  my  own  liking.  One  thing  more:  I 

learned  a  fresh  tolerance  for  the  dead ; 

he  too  had  learned  —  perhaps  had  invented 
—  the  trick  of  this  manner ;  God  knows  what 
weakness,  what  instability  of  feeling,  lay 
beneath.  Ce  que  c  est  que  de  nous;  poor 
human  nature;  that  at  past  forty  I  must 
adjust  this  hateful  mask  for  the  first  time, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  Ill 

and    rejoice  to  find   it  effective;  that  the    l89» 

Mar. 
effort   of    maintaining   an    external    smile 

should  confuse  and  embitter  a  man's  soul. 

To-day  I  have  not  weeded  ;  I  have  written 
instead  from  six  till  eleven,  from  twelve 
till  two;  with  the  interruption  of  the  inter- 
view aforesaid ;  a  damned  letter  is  written 
for  the  third  time;  I  dread  to  read  it,  for  I 
dare  not  give  it  a  fourth  chance  —  unless 
it  be  very  bad  indeed.  Now  I  write  you 
from  my  mosquito  curtain,  to  the  song  of 
saws  and  planes  and  hammers,  and  wood 
clumping  on  the  floor  above ;  in  a  day  of 
heavenly  brightness  ;  a  bird  twittering  near 
by ;  my  eye,  through  the  open  door,  com- 
manding green  meads,  two  or  three  forest 
trees  casting  their  boughs  against  the  sky, 
a  forest-clad  mountain-side  beyond,  and 
close  in  by  the  door-jamb  a  nick  of  the 
blue  Pacific.  It  is  March  in  England, 
bleak  March,  and  I  lie  here  with  the  great 
sliding  doors  wide  open  in  an  undershirt 
and  p'jama  trousers,  and  melt  in  the  closure 
of  mosquito  bars,  and  burn  to  be  out  in  the 


112  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  breeze.  A  few  torn  clouds  —  not  white, 
the  sun  has  tinged  them  a  warm  pink  — 
swim  in  heaven.  In  which  blessed  and 
fair  day,  I  have  to  make  faces  and  speak 
bitter  words  to  a  man  —  who  has  deceived 
me,  it  is  true  —  but  who  is  poor,  and  older 
than  I,  and  a  kind  of  a  gentleman  too. 
On  the  whole,  I  prefer  the  massacre  of 
weeds. 

Sunday. 

When  I  had  done  talking  to  you  yester- 
day, I  played  on  my  pipe  till  the  conch 
sounded,  then  went  over  to  the  old  house 
for  dinner,  and  had  scarce  risen  from  table 
ere  I  was  submerged  with  visitors.  The 
first  of  these  despatched,  I  spent  the  rest 
of  the  evening  going  over  the  Samoan 
translation  of  my  Bottle  Imp  J  with  Claxton 

1  The  first  serial  tale,  says  Mr.  Clarke,  ever  read  by 
Samoans  in  their  own  language  was  the  story  of  the  Bottle 
fmp,  "  which  found  its  way  into  print  at  Samoa,  and  was 
read  with  wonder  and  delight  in  many  a  thatched  Samoan 
hut  before  it  won  the  admiration  of  readers  at  home." 
In  the  English  form  the  story  was  published  first  in  Black 
and  White,  and  afterwards  in  the  volume  called  Island 
Nights'  Entertainments, 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  113 

the    missionary:    then    to    bed,    but    being    1891 

Mar. 
upset,    I   suppose,    by  these   interruptions, 

and  having  gone  all  day  without  my  weed- 
ing, not  to  sleep.  For  hours  I  lay  awake 
and  heard  the  rain  fall,  and  saw  faint,  far- 
away lightning  over  the  sea,  and  wrote  you 
long  letters  which  I  scorn  to  reproduce. 
This  morning  Paul  was  unusually  early; 
the  dawn  had  scarce  begun  when  he 
appeared  with  the  tray  and  lit  my  candle; 
and  I  had  breakfasted  and  read  (with  in- 
describable sinkings)  the  whole  of  yester- 
day's work  before  the  sun  had  risen.  Then 
I  sat  and  thought,  and  sat  and  better 
thought.  It  was  not  good  enough,  nor 
good ;  it  was  as  slack  as  journalism,  but 
not  so  inspired;  it  was  excellent  stuff 
misused,  and  the  defects  stood  gross  on  it 
like  humps  upon  a  camel.  But  could  I,  in 
my  present  disposition,  do  much  more  with 
it?  in  my  present  pressure  for  time,  were 
I  not  better  employed  doing  another  one 
about  as  ill,  than  making  this  some  thou- 
sandth fraction  better?  Yes,  I  thought; 


114  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  and  tried  the  new  one,  and  behold,  I  could 
do  nothing:  my  head  swims,  words  do  not 
come  to  me,  nor  phrases,  and  I  accepted 
defeat,  packed  up  my  traps,  and  turned  to 
communicate  the  failure  to  my  esteemed 
correspondent.  I  think  it  possible  I  over- 
worked yesterday.  Well,  we'll  see  to- 
morrow —  perhaps  try  again  later.  It  is 
indeed  the  hope  of  trying  later  that  keeps 
me  writing  to  you.  If  I  take  to  my  pipe, 
I  know  myself  —  all  is  over  for  the  morn- 
ing. Hurray,  I  '11  correct  proofs! 

Pago- Pago,  Wednesday. 

After  I  finished  on  Sunday  I  passed  a 
miserable  day;  went  out  weeding,  but 
could  not  find  peace.  I  do  not  like  to 
steal  my  dinner,  unless  I  have  given  my- 
self a  holiday  in  a  canonical  manner;  and 
weeding  after  all  is  only  fun,  the  amount 
of  its  utility  small,  and  the  thing  capable 
of  being  done  faster  and  nearly  as  well  by 
a  hired  boy.  In  the  evening  Sewall  came 
up  (American  consul)  and  proposed  to 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  115 

take  me  on  a  malaga,1  which  I  accepted.  1891 
Monday  I  rode  down  to  Apia,  was  nearly 
all  day  fighting  about  drafts  and  money; 
the  silver  problem  does  not  touch  you,  but 
it  is  (in  a  strange  and  I  hope  passing 
phase)  making  my  situation  difficult  in 
Apia.  About  eleven,  the  flags  were  all 
half-masted;  it  was  old  Captain  Hamilton 
(Samesoni  the  natives  called  him)  who  had 
passed  away.  In  the  evening  I  walked 
round  to  the  U.  S.  Consulate;  it  was  a 
lovely  night  with  a  full  moon ;  and  as  I 
got  round  to  the  hot  corner  of  Matautu  I 
heard  hymns  in  front.  The  balcony  of  the 
dead  man's  house  was  full  of  women  sing- 
ing; Mary  (the  widow,  a  native)  sat  on  a 
chair  by  the  doorstep,  and  I  was  set  beside 
her  on  a  bench,  and  next  to  Paul  the 
carpenter;  as  I  sat  down  I  had  a  glimpse 
of  the  old  captain,  who  lay  in  a  sheet  on 
his  own  table.  After  the  hymn  was  over, 
a  native  pastor  made  a  speech  which  lasted 
a  long  while;  the  light  poured  out  of  the 

1  Boating  expedition. 


Il6  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89i  door  and  windows;  the  girls  were  sitting 
clustered  at  my  feet;  it  was  choking  hot. 
After  the  speech  was  ended,  Mary  carried 
me  within;  the  captain's  hands  were  folded 
on  his  bosom,  his  face  and  head  were  com- 
posed; he  looked  as  if  he  might  speak  at 
any  moment;  I  have  never  seen  this  kind 
of  waxwork  so  express  or  more  venerable; 
and  when  I  went  away,  I  was  conscious  of 
a  certain  envy  for  the  man  who  was  out  of 
the  battle.  All  night  it  ran  in  my  head, 
and  the  next  day  when  we  sighted  Tutuila, 
and  ran  into  this  beautiful  land-locked 
loch  of  Pago-Pago  (whence  I  write),  Captain 
Hamilton's  folded  hands  and  quiet  face 
said  a  great  deal  more  to  me  than  the 
scenery. 

I  am  living  here  in  a  trader's  house;  we 
have  a  good  table,  Sewall  doing  things  in 
style;  and  I  hope  to  benefit  by  the  change, 
and  possibly  get  more  stuff  for  Letters. 
In  the  meanwhile,  I  am  seized  quite  mal-a- 
propos  with  desire  to  write  a  story,  Tlie 
Bloody  Wedding,  founded  on  fact  —  very 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  1 1/ 

possibly  true,  being  an  attempt  to  read  a  l89i 
murder  case  —  not  yet  months  old,  in  this 
very  place  and  house  where  I  now  write. 
The  indiscretion  is  what  stops  me;  but  if 
I  keep  on  feeling  as  I  feel  just  now  it  will 
have  to  be  written.  Three  Star  Nettison, 
Kit  Nettison,  Field  the  Sailor,  these  are 
the  main  characters:  old  Nettison,  and  the 
captain  of  the  man  of  war,  the  secondary. 
Possible  scenario.  Chapter  I.  ... 


VII 


Saturday,  April 

i8gi  MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  —  I  got  back  on 
Monday  night,  after  twenty-three  hours  in 
an  open  boat;  the  keys  were  lost;  the 
Consul  (who  had  promised  us  a  bottle  of 
Burgundy)  nobly  broke  open  his  store-room, 
and  we  got  to  bed  about  midnight.  Next 
morning  the  blessed  Consul  promised  us 
horses  for  the  daybreak;  forgot  all  about 
it,  worthy  man;  set  us  off  at  last  in  the 
heat  of  the  day,  and  by  a  short  cut  which 
caused  infinite  trouble,  and  we  were  not 
home  till  dinner.  I  was  extenuated,  and 
have  had  a  high  fever  since,  or  should 
have  been  writing  before.  To-day  for  the 
first  time,  I  risk  it.  Tuesday  I  was  pretty 
bad;  Wednesday  had  a  fever  to  kill  a 
horse;  Thursday  I  was  better,  but  still  out 
of  ability  to  do  aught  but  read  awful  trash. 
This  is  the  time  one  misses  civilisation;  I 
wished  to  send  out  for  some  police  novels; 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  119 

Montepin  would  have  about  suited  my  l89i 
frozen  brain.  It  is  a  bother  when  all  one's 
thought  turns  on  one's  work  in  some  sense 
or  other;  I  could  not  even  think  yesterday; 
I  took  to  inventing  dishes  by  way  of  enter- 
tainment. Yesterday,  while  I  lay  asleep 
in  the  afternoon,  a  very  lucky  thing  hap- 
pened;  the  Chief  Justice  came  to  call;  met 
one  of  our  employes  on  the  road ;  and  was 
shown  what  I  had  done  to  the  road. 

"Is  this  the  road  across  the  island?"  he 
asked. 

"The  only  one,"  said  Innes. 

"And  has  one  man  done  all  this?" 

"Three  times,"  said  the  trusty  Innes. 
"It  has  had  to  be  made  three  times,  and 
when  Mr.  Stevenson  came,  it  was  a  track 
like  what  you  see  beyond." 

"This  must  be  put  right,"  said  the  Chief 
Justice. 

Sunday. 

The  truth  is,  I  broke  down  yesterday 
almost  as  soon  as  I  began,  and  have  been 
surreptitiously  finishing  the  entry  to-day. 


I2O  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  For  all  that  I  was  much  better,  ate  all  the 
time,  and  had  no  fever.  The  day  was 
otherwise  uneventful.  I  am 'reminded;  I 
had  another  visitor  on  Friday ;  and  Fanny 
and  Lloyd,  as  they  returned  from  a  forest 
raid,  met  in  our  desert,  untrodden  road, 
first  Father  Didier,  Keeper  of  the  con- 
science of  Mataafa,  the  rising  star;  and 
next  the  Chief  Justice,  sole  stay  of  Laupepa, 
the  present  and  unsteady  star,  and  remem- 
ber, a  few  days  before  we  were  close  to 
the  sick  bed  and  entertained  by  the  amateur 
physician  of  Tamasese,  the  late  and  sunken 
star.  "That  is  the  fun  of  this  place," 
observed  Lloyd ;  "  everybody  you  meet  is 
so  important."  Everybody  is  also  so 
gloomy.  It  will  come  to  war  again,  is 
the  opinion  of  all  the  well  informed  —  and 
before  that  to  many  bankruptcies;  and 
after  that,  as  usual,  to  famine.  Here, 
under  the  microscope,  we  can  see  history 
at  work. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  121 

Wednesday, 

I  have  been  very  neglectful.     A  return    J89i 

April, 

to  work,  perhaps  premature,  but  necessary, 
has  used  up  all  my  possible  energies  and 
made  me  acquainted  with  the  living  head- 
ache. I  just  jot  down  some  of  the  past 
notabilia.  Yesterday  B.,  a  carpenter,  and 
K.,  my  (unsuccessful)  white  man,  were 
absent  all  morning  from  their  work;  I  was 
working  myself,  where  I  hear  every  sound 
with  morbid  certainty,  and  I  can  testify 
that  not  a  hammer  fell.  Upon  inquiry  I 
found  they  had  passed  the  morning  making 
ice  with  our  ice  machine  and  taking  the 
horizon  with  a  spirit  level !  I  had  no 
sooner  heard  this  than  —  a  violent  head- 
ache set  in ;  I  am  a  real  employer  of  labour 
now,  and  have  much  of  the  ship  captain 
when  aroused ;  and  if  I  had  a  headache,  I 
believe  both  these  gentlemen  had  aching 

hearts.     I  promise  you,  the  late was 

to  the  front;  and  K. ,  who  was  the  most 
guilty,  yet  (in  a  sense)  the  least  blamable, 
having  the  brains  and  character  of  a  canary- 


122  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

189.1  bird,  fared  none  the  better  for  B.'s  rep. 
artees.  I  hear  them  hard  at  work  this 
morning,  so  the  menace  may  be  blessed. 
It  was  just  after  my  dinner,  just  before 
theirs,  that  I  administered  my  redoubtable 
tongue  —  it  is  really  redoubtable  —  to  these 
skulkers.  (Paul  used  to  truimph  over  Mr. 
J.  for  weeks.  "I  am  very  sorry  for  you," 
he  would  say;  "you're  going  to  have  a 
talk  with  Mr.  Stevenson  when  he  comes 
home:  you  don't  know  what  that  is!")  In 
fact,  none  of  them  do,  till  they  get  it.  I 
have  known  K.,  for  instance,  for  months; 
he  has  never  heard  me  complain,  or  take 
notice,  unless  it  were  to  praise;  I  have 
used  him  always  as  my  guest,  and  there 
seems  to  be  something  in  my  appearance 
which  suggests  endless,  ovine  long-suffer- 
ing! We  sat  in  the  upper  verandah  all 
evening,  and  discussed  the  price  of  iron 
•roofing,  and  the  state  of  the  draught-horses, 
with  Innes,  a  new  man  we  have  taken,  and 
who  seems  to  promise  well. 

One    thing    embarrasses    me.      No    one 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  123 

ever  seems  to  understand  my  attitude  about  1891 
that  book ;  the  stuff  sent  was  never  meant 
for  other  than  a  first  state;  I  never  meant 
it  to  appear  as  a  book.  Knowing  well  that 
I  have  never  had  one  hour  of  inspiration 
since  it  was  begun,  and  have  only  beaten 
out  my  metal  by  brute  force  and  patient 
repetition,  I  hoped  some  day  to  get  a 
"spate  of  style"  and  burnish  it  —  fine 
mixed  metaphor.  I  am  now  so  sick  that  I 
intend,  when  the  Letters  are  done  and 
some  more  written  that  will  be  wanted, 
simply  to  make  a  book  of  it  by  the  prun- 
ing-knife.  I  cannot  fight  longer;  I  am 
sensible  of  having  done  worse  than  I 
hoped,  worse  than  I  feared;  all  I  can  do 
now  is  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  the  future, 
and  clear  the  book,  like  a  piece  of  bush, 
with  axe  and  cutlass.  Even  to  produce 
the  MS.  of  this  will  occupy  me,  at  the  most 
favourable  opinion,  till  the  middle  of  next 
year;  really  five  years  were  wanting,  when 
I  could  have  made  a  book;  but  I  have  a 
family  and  —  perhaps  I  could  not  make  the 
book  after  all. 


VIII 

April  z^th,  '91. 

1891  MY  DEAR  COLVIN, — I  begin  again.  I 
was  awake  this  morning  about  half-past 
four.  It  was  still  night,  but  I  made  my 
fire,  which  is  always  a  deligthful  employ- 
ment, and  read  Lockhart's  "Scott"  until 
the  day  began  to  peep.  It  was  a  beautiful 
and  sober  dawn,  a  dove- coloured  dawn, 
insensibly  brightening  to  gold.  I  was 
looking  at  it  some  while  over  the  down- 
hill profile  of  our  eastern  road,  when  I 
chanced  to  glance  northward,  and  saw  with 
extraordinary  pleasure  the  sea  lying  out- 
spread. It  seemed  as  smooth  as  glass,  and 
yet  I  knew  the  surf  was  roaring  all  along 
the  reef,  and  indeed,  if  I  had  listened,  I 
could  have  heard  it  —  and  saw  the  white 
sweep  of  it  outside  Matautu. 

I  am  out  of  condition  still,  and  can  do 
nothing,  and  toil  to  be  at  my  pen,  and  see 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  125 

some  ink  behind  me.  I  have  taken  up  1891 
again  The  High  Woods  of  Ulnjanua.  I 
still  think  the  fable  too  fantastic  and  far- 
fetched. But,  on  a  re-reading,  fell  in  love 
with  my  first  chapter,  and  for  good  or  evil 
I  must  finish  it.  It  is  really  good,  well 
fed  with  facts,  true  to  the  manners,  and 
(for  once  in  my  works)  rendered  pleasing 
by  the  presence  of  a  heroine  who  is  pretty. 
Miss  Uma  is  pretty;  a  fact.  All  my  other 
women  have  been  as  ugly  as  sin,  and  like 
Falconet's  horse  (I  have  just  been  reading 
the  anecdote  in  Lockhart),  mortes  forbye. 

News :  Our  old  house  is  now  half  demol- 
ished; it  is  to  be  rebuilt  on  a  new  site; 
now  we  look  down  upon  and  through  the 
open  posts  of  it  like  a  bird-cage,  to  the 
woods  beyond.  My  poor  Paulo  has  lost 
his  father  and  succeeded  to  thirty  thousand 
thalers  (I  think);  he  had  to  go  down  to  the 
Consulate  yesterday  to  send  a  legal  paper; 
got  drunk,  of  course,  and  is  still  this  morn- 
ing in  so  bemused  a  condition  that  our 
breakfasts  all  went  wrong.  Lafaele  is 


126  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  absent  at  the  deathbed  of  his  fair  spouse, 
fair  she  was,  but  not  in  deed,  acting  as 
harlot  to  the  wreckers  at  work  on  the  war- 
ships, to  which  society  she  probably  owes 
her  end,  having  fallen  off  a  cliff,  or  been 
thrust  off  it  —  inter pocula.  Henry  is  the 
same,  our  stand-by.  In  this  transition 
stage  he  has  been  living  in  Apia;  but  the 
other  night  he  stayed  up,  and  sat  with  us 
about  the  chimney  in  my  room.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  seen  a  fire  in  a  hearth ; 
he  could  not  look  at  it  without  smiles,  and 
was  always  anxious  to  put  on  another  stick. 
We  entertained  him  with  the  fairy  tales  of 
civilisation  —  theatres,  London,  blocks  in 
the  street,  Universities,  the  Underground, 
newspapers,  etc.,  and  projected  once  more 
his  visit  to  Sydney.  If  we  can  manage,  it 
will  be  next  Christmas.  (I  see  it  will 
be  impossible  for  me  to  afford  a  further 
journey  this  winter.)  We  have  spent  since 
we  have  been  here  about  ^2500,  which  is 
not  much  if  you  consider  we  have  built  on 
that  three  houses,  one  of  them  of  some 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  12? 

size,  and  a  considerable  stable,  made  two  1891 
miles  of  road  some  three  times,  cleared 
many  acres  of  bush,  made  some  miles  of 
path,  planted  quanities  of  food,  and  en- 
closed a  horse  paddock  and  some  acres  of 
pig  run;  but  'tis  a  good  deal  of  money 
regarded  simply  as  money.  K.  is  bosh;  I 
have  no  use  for  him ;  but  we  must  do  what 
we  can  with  the  fellow  meanwhile;  he  is 
good-humoured  and  honest,  but  inefficient, 
idle  himself,  the  cause  of  idleness  in 
others,  grumbling,  a  self-excuser — all  the 
faults  in  a  bundle.  He  owes  us  thirty 
weeks'  service  —  the  wretched  Paul  about 
half  as  much.  Henry  is  almost  the  only 
one  of  our  employes  who  has  a  credit. 

May  i-jth. 

Well,  am  I  ashamed  of  myself?  I  do 
not  think  so.  I  have  been  hammering 
Letters  ever  since,  and  got  three  ready 
and  a  fourth  about  half  through;  all  four 
will  go  by  the  mail,  which  is  what  I  wish, 
for  so  I  keep  at  least  my  start:  Days  and 


128  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l%91  days  of  unprofitable  stubbing  and  digging, 
7"  and  the  result  still  poor  as  literature,  left- 
handed,  heavy,  unillumined,  but  I  believe 
readable  and  interesting  as  matter.  It  has 
been  no  joke  of  a  hard  time,  and  when  my 
task  was  done,  I  had  little  taste  for  any- 
thing but  blowing  on  the  pipe.  A  few 
necessary  letters  filled  the  bowl  to  over- 
flowing. 

My  mother  has  arrived,  young,  well,  and 
in  good  spirits.  By  desperate  exertions, 
which  have  wholly  floored  Fanny,  her 
room  was  ready  for  her,  and  the  dining- 
room  fit  to  eat  in.  It  was  a  famous  vic- 
tory. Lloyd  never  told  me  of  your  portrait 
till  a  few  days  ago;  fortunately,  I  had  no 
pictures  hung  yet ;  and  the  space  over  my 
chimney  waits  your  counterfeit  present- 
ment. I  have  not  often  heard  anything 
that  pleased  me  more;  your  severe  head 
shall  frown  upon  me  and  keep  me  to  the 
mark.  But  why  has  it  not  come?  Have 
you  been  as  forgetful  as  Lloyd? 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  1 29 

iSt/i. 

Miserable  comforters  are  ye  all !  I  read  1891 
your  esteemed  pages  this  morning  by  lamp-  ay' 
light  and  the  glimmer  of  the  dawn,  and  as 
soon  as  breakfast  was  over,  I  must  turn  to 
and  tackle  these  despised  labours !  Some 
courage  was  necessary,  but  not  wanting. 
There  is  one  thing  at  least  by  which  I  can 
avenge  myself  for  my  drubbing,  for  on  one 
point  you  seem  impenetrably  stupid.  Can 
I  find  no  form  of  words  which  will  at  last 
convey  to  your  intelligence  the  fact  that 
these  letters  were  never  meant,  and  are  not 
no^u  meant,  to  be  other  than  a  quarry  of 
materials  from  which  the  book  may  be  drawn  ? 
There  seems  something  incommunicable  in 
this  (to  me)  simple  idea;  I  know  Lloyd 
failed  to  comprehend  it,  I  doubt  if  he  has 
grasped  it  now;  and  I  despair,  after  all 
these  efforts,  that  you  should  ever  be 
enlightened.  Still,  oblige  me  by  reading 
that  form  of  words  once  more,  and  see  if  a 
light  does  not  break.  You  may  be  sure, 
after  the  friendly  freedoms  of  your  criti- 

VOL.  I. 9 


130  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  cism  (necessary  I  am  sure,  and  wholesome 
y'  I  know,  but  untimely  to  the  poor  labourer 
in  his  landslip)  that  mighty  little  of  it 
will  stand. 

Our  Paul  has  come  into  a  fortune,  and 
wishes  to  go  home  to  the  Hie  Germanic. 
This  is  a  tile  on  our  head,  and  if  a  shower, 
which  is  now  falling,  lets  up,  I  must  go 
down  to  Apia,  and  see  if  I  can  find  a  sub- 
stitute of  any  kind.  This  is,  from  any 
point  of  view,  disgusting;  above  all,  from 
that  of  work ;  for  whatever  the  result,  the 
mill  has  to  be  kept  turning;  apparently 
dust,  and  not  flour,  is  the  proceed.  Well, 
there  is  gold  in  the  dust,  which  is  a  fine 
consolation,  since  —  well,  I  can't  help  it; 
night  or  morning,  I  do  my  darndest,  and 
if  I  cannot  charge  for  merit,  I  must  e'en 
charge  for  toil,  of  which  I  have  plenty  and 
plenty  more  ahead  before  this  cup  is 
drained ;  sweat  and  hyssop  are  the  in- 
gredients. 

We  are  clearing  from  Carruthers'  Road 
to  the  pig  fence.  Twenty-eight  powerful 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  131 

natives  with  Catholic  medals  about  their   1891 
necks,  all  swiping  in   like   Trojans;    long 
may  the  sport  continue! 

The  invoice  to  hand.  Ere  this  goes  out, 
I  hope  to  see  your  expressive,  but  surely 
not  benignant  countenance!  Adieu,  O 
culler  of  offensive  expressions  —  "and  a' 
to  be  a  posy  to  your  ain  dear  May !  "  — 
Fanny  seems  a  little  revived  again  after 
her  spasm  of  work.  Our  books  and  furni- 
ture keep  slowly  draining  up  the  road,  in  a 
sad  state  of  scatterment  and  disrepair;  I 
wish  the  devil  had  had  K.  by  his  red  beard 
before  he  had  packed  my  library.  Odd 
leaves  and  sheets  and  boards  —  a  thing  to 
make  a  bibliomaniac  shed  tears  —  are 
fished  out  of  odd  corners.  But  I  am  no 
bibliomaniac,  praise  Heaven,  and  I  bear 
up,  and  rejoice  when  I  find  anything  safe. 

\gtk. 

However,  I  worked  five  hours  on  the 
brute,  and  finished  my  Letter  all  the  same, 
and  couldn't  sleep  last  night  by  conse- 
quence. Haven't  had  a  bad  night  since  I 


132  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  don't  know  when;  dreamed  a  large,  hand- 
ay'  some  man  (a  New  Orleans  planter)  had 
insulted  my  wife,  and,  do  what  I  pleased, 
I  could  not  make  him  fight  me;  and  woke 
to  find  it  was  the  eleventh  anniversary  of 
my  marriage.  A  letter  usually  takes  me 
from  a  week  to  three  days ;  but  I  'm  some- 
times two  days  on  a  page  —  I  was  once 
three  —  and  then  my  friends  kick  me. 
Cest-y-bete!  I  wish  letters  of  that  charm- 
ing quality  could  be  so  timed  as  to  arrive 
when  a  fellow  was  n't  working  at  the  truck 
in  question;  but,  of  course,  that  can't  be. 
Did  not  go  down  last  night.  It  showered 
all  afternoon,  and  poured  heavy  and  loud 
all  night. 

You  should  have  seen  our  twenty-five 
popes  (the  Samoan  phrase  for  a  Catholic, 
lay  or  cleric)  squatting  when  the  day's 
work  was  done  on  the  ground  outside  the 
verandah,  and  pouring  in  the  rays  of  forty- 
eight  eyes  through  the  back  and  the  front 
door  of  the  dining-room,  while  Henry  and 
I  and  the  boss  pope  signed  the  contract. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  133 

The  second  boss  (an  old  man)  wore  a  kilt    1891 
(as   usual)  and  a   Balmoral  bonnet  with  a      ay' 
little    tartan    edging  and   the  tails  pulled 
off.  .  I  told  him  that  hat  belonged  to  my 
country — Sekotia;  and  he  said,  yes,  that 
was    the  place   that   he   belonged  to   right 
enough.      And  then  all  the  Papists  laughed 
till  the  woods  rang;  he  was  slashing  away 
with  a  cutlass  as  he  spoke. 

The  pictures  have  decidedly  not   come; 
they  may  probably  arrive  Sunday. 


IX 

June,  1891. 

1891  SrR,  —  To  you,  under  your  portrait, 
which  is,  in  expression,  your  true,  breath- 
ing self,  and  up  to  now  saddens  me;  in 
time,  and  soon,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  it 
there;  it  is  still  only  a  reminder  of  your 
absence.  Fanny  wept  when  we  unpacked 
it,  and  you  know  how  little  she  is  given  to 
that  mood ;  I  was  scarce  Roman  myself, 
but  that  does  not  count  —  I  lift  up  my 
voice  so  readily.  These  are  good  compli- 
ments to  the  artist.  I  write  in  the  midst 
of  a  wreck  of  books,  which  have  just  come 
up,  and  have  for  once  defied  my  labours  to 
get  straight.  The  whole  floor  is  filled 
with  them,  and  (what  's  worse)  most  of  the 
shelves  forbye;  and  where  they  are  to  go 
to,  and  what  is  to  become  of  the  librarian, 
God  knows.  It  is  hot  to-night,  and  has 
been  airless  all  day,  and  I  am  out  of  sorts, 
and  my  work  sticks,  the  devil  fly  away 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  135 

with  it  and  me.     We  had  an  alarm  of  war    l89* 

June, 

since  last  I  wrote  my  screeds  to  you,  and 
it  blew  over,  and  is  to  blow  on  again,  and 
the  rumour  goes  they  are  to  begin  by  kill- 
ing all  the  whites.  I  have  no  belief  in 
this,  and  should  be  infinitely  sorry  if  it 
came  to  pass  —  I  do  not  mean  for  its,  that 
were  otiose  —  but  for  the  poor,  deluded 
schoolboys,  who  should  hope  to  gain  by 
such  a  step. 

{Letter  resumed.] 

June  2OfA. 

No  diary  this  time.  Why?  you  ask.  I 
have  only  sent  out  four  Letters,  and  two 
chapters  of  the  Wrecker.  Yes,  but  to  get 
these  I  have  written  132  pp.,  66,000  words 
in  thirty  days;  2200  words  a  clay;  the 
labours  of  an  elephant.  God  knows  what 
it  's  like,  and  don't  ask  me,  but  nobody 
shall  say  I  have  spared  pains.  I  thought 
for  some  time  it  would  n't  come  at  all.  I 
was  days  and  days  over  the  first  letter  of 
the  lot  —  days  and  days  writing  and  delet- 
ing and  making  no  headway  whatever,  till 


136  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891    I  thought  I  should  have  gone  bust ;  but  it 
64  came  at  last  after  a  fashion,  and  the  rest 
went  a  thought  more  easily,  though  I  am 
not  so  fond  as  to  fancy  any  better. 

Your  opinion  as  to  the  letters  as  a  whole 
is  so  damnatory  that  I  put  them  by.  But 
there  is  a  "hell  of  a  want  of"  money  this 
year.  And  these  Gilbert  Island  papers, 
being  the  most  interesting  in  matter,  and 
forming  a  compact  whole,  and  being  well 
illustrated,  I  did  think  of  as  a  possible 
resource. 

It  would  be  called 

Six  Mont/is  in  Melanesia, 
Two  Island  Kings, 

Monarchies, 

Gilbert  Island  Kings, 

Monarchies, 

and  I  daresay  I  '11  think  of  a  better  yet  — 
and  would  divide  thus  :  — 

Butaritari. 

I.     A  Town  asleep, 
ii.     The  Three  Brothers. 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  137 

in.     Around  our  House.  J891 

June. 

iv.     A  Tale  of  a  Tapu. 
v.     The  Five  Days'  Festival, 
vi.     Domestic  Life  —  (which  might 

be    omitted,    but    not   well, 

better  be  recast). 

The  King-  of  Apcmama. 

vn.     The  Royal  Traders, 
vin.     Foundation  of  Equator  Town, 
ix.     The  Palace  of  Mary  Warren. 
x.     Equator  Town  and  the  Palace. 
XL      King  and  Commons, 
xii.     The  Devil  Work  Box. 
xin.     The  Three  Corslets, 
xiv.     Tail    piece;   the    Court   upon  a 

Journey. 

I  wish  you  to  watch  these  closely,  judg- 
ing them  as  a  whole,  and  treating  them  as 
I  have  asked  you,  and  favour  me  with  your 
damnatory  advice.  I  look  up  at  your  por- 
trait, and  it  frowns  upon  me.  You  seem 
to  view  me  with  reproach.  The  expres- 
sion is  excellent;  Fanny  wept  when  she 


138  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  saw  it,  and  you  know  she  is  not  given  to 
the  melting  mo9<i.  She  seems  really 
better;  I  have  a  touch  of  fever  again,  I 
fancy  overwork,  and  to-day,  when  I  have 
overtaken  my  letters,  I  shall  blow  on  my 
pipe.  Tell  Mrs.  S.  I  have  been  playing 
Le  Chant  d1  A mour  lately,  and  have  arranged 
it,  after  awful  trouble,  rather  prettily  for 
two  pipes;  and  it  brought  her  before  me 
with  an  effect  scarce  short  of  hallucination. 
I  could  hear  her  voice  in  every  note;  yet  I 
had  forgot  the  air  entirely,  and  began  to 
pipe  it  from  notes  as  something  new,  when 
I  was  brought  up  with  a  round  turn  by  this 
reminiscence.  We  are  now  very  much 
installed;  the  dining-room  is  done,  and 
looks  lovely.  Soon  we  shall  begin  to  pho- 
tograph and  send  you  our  circumstances. 
My  room  is  still  a  howling  wilderness.  I 
sleep  on  a  platform  in  a  window,  and  strike 
my  mosquito  bar  and  roll  up  my  bedclothes 
every  morning,  so  that  the  bed  becomes  by 
day  a  divan.  A  great  part  of  the  floor  is 
knee-deep  in  books,  yet  nearly  all  the 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  139 

shelves  are  filled,    alas!     It    is  a  place  to    1891 

June 

make  a  pig  recoil,  yet  here  are  my  inter- 
minable labours  begun  daily  by  lamp -light, 
and  sometimes  not  yet  done  when  the  lamp 
has  once  more  to  be  lighted.  The  effect 
of  pictures  in  this  place  is  surprising. 
They  give  great  pleasure. 

June  2ist. 

A  word  more.  I  had  my  breakfast  this 
morning  at  4.30!  My  new  cook  has  beaten 
me  and  (as  Lloyd  says)  revenged  all  the 
cooks  in  the  world.  I  have  been  hunting 
them  to  give  me  breakfast  early  since  I  was 
twenty;  and  now  here  comes  Mr.  Ratke, 
and  I  have  to  plead  for  mercy.  I  cannot 
stand  4.30;  I  am  a  mere  fevered  wreck;  it 
is  now  half-past  eight,  and  I  can  no  more, 
and  four  hours  divide  me  from  lunch,  the 
devil  take  the  man!  Yesterday  it  was 
about  5.30,  which  I  can  stand;  day  before 
5,  which  is  bad  enough;  to-day,  I  give 
out.  It  is  like  a  London  season,  and  as  I 
do  not  take  a  siesta  once  in  a  month,  and 


140  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891    then  only  five  minutes,  I  am  being  worn  to 
the  bones,  and  look  aged  and  anxious. 

We  have  Rider  Haggard's  brother  here 
as  a  Land  Commissioner;  a  nice  kind  of  a 
fellow;  indeed,  all  the  three  Land  Com- 
mssioners  are  very  agreeable. 


X 

Sunday,  Sept.  5  (?),  1891. 

MY  DEAR  CoLviN,1  —  Yours  from  Loch-  1891 
inver  has  just  come.  You  ask  me  if  I  am  Sept< 
ever  homesick  for  the  Highlands  and  the 
Isles.  Conceive  that  for  the  last  month  I 
have  been  living  there  between  1786  and 
1850,  in  my  grandfather's  diaries  and 
letters.  I  Jiad  to  take  a  rest ;  no  use 
talking;  so  I  put  in  a  month  over  my  Lives 
of  the  Stevensons  with  great  pleasure  and 
profit  and  some  advance;  one  chapter  and 
a  part  drafted.  The  whole  promises  well. 
Chapter  i.  Domestic  Annals.  Capter  11. 
The  Northern  Lights.  Chapter  in.  The 
Bell  Rock.  Chapter  iv.  A  Family  of 
Boys.  Chap.  v.  The  Grandfather,  vi. 

1  Between  this  letter  and  the  preceding,  one  has  gone 
astray.  It  was  chiefly  concerned  with  the  disturbed  state 
of  Samoan  affairs,  the  threatenings  of  war,  and  the  mis- 
management of  the  two  treaty  officials. 


142  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  Alan  Stevenson,  vn.  Thomas  Stevenson. 
My  materials  for  my  great-grandfather  are 
almost  null ;  for  my  grandfather  copious 
and  excellent.  Name,  a  puzzle.  A  Scottish 
Family,  A  Family  of  Engineers,  Northern 
Lights,  The  Engineers  of  tJie  Northern 
Lights:  A  Family  History.  Advise;  but 
it  will  take  long.  Now,  imagine  if  I  have 
been  homesick  for  Barrahead  and  Island 
Glass,  and  Kirkwall,  and  Cape  Wrath,  and 
the  Wells  of  the  Pentland  Firth;  I  could 
have  wept. 

Now  for  politics.  I  am  much  less 
alarmed;  I  believe  the  malo  (=raj,  govern- 
ment) will  collapse  and  cease  like  an  over- 
lain infant,  without  a  shot  fired.  They 
have  now  been  months  here  on  their  big 
salaries  —  and  Cedarcrantz,  whom  I  spe- 
cially like  as  a  man,  has  done  nearly  noth- 
ing, and  the  Baron,  who  is  well-meaning, 
has  done  worse.  They  have  these  large 
salaries,  and  they  have  all  the  taxes ;  they 
have  made  scarce  a  foot  of  road ;  they  have 
not  given  a  single  native  a  position  —  all 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  143 

to  white  men ;  they  have  scarce  laid  out  a    1891 
.    .  Sept. 

penny    on  Apia,    and    scarce    a    penny    on 

the  King;  they  have  forgot  they  were  in 
Samoa,  or  that  such  a  thing  as  Samoans 
existed,  and  had  eyes  and  some  intelli- 
gence. The  Chief  Justice  has  refused  to 
pay  his  customs  !  The  President  proposed 
to  have  an  expensive  house  built  for  him- 
self, while  the  King,  his  master,  has  none! 
I  had  stood  aside,  and  been  a  loyal,  and, 
above  all,  a  silent  subject,  up  to  then;  but 
now  I  snap  my  fingers  at  their  vialo.  It  is 
damned,  and  I  'm  damned  glad  of  it.  And 
this  is  not  all.  Last  "  Wainiii"  when  I 
sent  Fanny  off  to  Fiji,  I  hear  the  wonder- 
ful news  that  the  Chief  Justice  is  going  to 
Fiji  and  the  Colonies  to  improve  his  mind. 
I  showed  my  way  of  thought  to  his  guest, 
Count  Wachtmeister,  whom  I  have  sent  to 
you  with  a  letter  —  he  will  tell  you  all  the 
news.  Well,  the  Chief  Justice  stayed,  but 
they  said  he  was  to  leave  yesterday.  I 
had  intended  to  go  down,  and  see  and  warn 
him!  But  the  President's  house  had  come 


144  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  up  in  the  meanwhile,  and  I  let  them  go  to 
ept'  their  doom,  which  I  am  only  anxious  to 
see  swiftly  and  (if  it  may  be)  bloodlessly 
fall. 

Thus  I  have  in  a  way  withdrawn  my 
unrewarded  loyalty.  Lloyd  is  down  to-day 
with  Moors  to  call  on  Mataafa;  the  news 
of  the  excursion  made  a  considerable  row 
in  Apia,  and  both  the  German  and  the 
English  consuls  besought  Lloyd  not  to  go. 
But  he  stuck  to  his  purpose,  and  with  my 
approval.  It  's  a  poor  thing  if  people  are 
to  give  up  a  pleasure  party  for  a  malo  that 
has  never  done  anything  for  us  but  draw 
taxes,  and  is  going  to  go  pop,  and  leave  us 
at  the  mercy  of  the  identical  Mataafa, 
whom  I  have  not  visited  for  more  than  a 
year,  and  who  is  probably  furious. 

The  sense  of  my  helplessness  here  has 
been  rather  bitter;  I  feel  it  wretched  to 
see  this  dance  of  folly  and  injustice  and 
unconscious  rapacity  go  forward  from  day 
to  day,  and  to  be  impotent.  I  was  not 
consulted  —  or  only  by  one  man,  and  that 


VAILIMA   LETTERS  145 

on  particular  points;  I  did  not   choose  to    1891 

Sept. 

volunteer  advice  till  some  pressing  occa- 
sion ;  I  have  not  even  a  vote,  for  I  am  not 
a  member  of  the  municipality. 

What  ails  you,  miserable  man,  to  talk 
of  saving  material  ?  I  have  a  whole  world 
in  my  head,  a  whole  new  society  to  work, 
but  I  am  in  no  hurry;  you  will  shortly 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  Island  of 
Ulufanua,  on  which  I  mean  to  lay  several 
stories;  the  Bloody  Wedding,  possibly  the 
High  Woods  —  (Oh,  it  's  so  good,  the  High 
Woods,  but  the  story  is  craziness;  that's 
the  trouble,)  —  a  political  story,  the  Labour 
Slave,  etc.  Ulufanua  is  an  imaginary 
island;  the  name  is  a  beautiful  Samoan 
word  for  the  top  of  a  forest;  ulu  —  leaves 
or  hair,  fanua  =  land.  The  ground  or 
country  of  the  leaves.  "  Ulufanua  the  isle 
of  the  sea,"  read  that  verse  dactylically  and 
you  get  the  beat ;  the  it's  are  like  our 
double  oo \  did  ever  you  hear  a  prettier 
word  ? 

I  do  not  feel  inclined  to  make  a  volume 

VOL.  I.  —  IO 


146  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  of  Essays,1  but  if  I  did,  and  perhaps  the 
idea  is  good  —  and  any  idea  is  better  than 
South  Seas  —  here  would  be  my  choice  of 
the  Scribner  articles:  Dreams,  Beggars, 
Lantern-Bearers,  Random  Memories.  There 
was  a  paper  called  the  Old  Pacific  Capital 
in  Eraser,  in  Tulloch's  time,  which  had 
merit ;  there  were  two  on  Fontainebleau 
in  the  Magazine  of  Art  in  Henley's  time. 
I  have  no  idea  if  they  're  any  good;  then 
there  's  the  Emigrant  Train.  Pnlms  et 
Umbra  is  in  a  different  key,  and  would  n't 
hang  on  with  the  rest. 

I  have  just  interrupted  my  letter  and 
read  through  the  chapter  of  the  High 
Woods  that  is  written,  a  chapter  and  a  bit, 
some  sixteen  pages,  really  very  fetching, 
but  what  do  you  wish?  the  story  is  so 
wilful,  so  steep,  so  silly —  it 's  a  hallucina- 
tion I  have  outlived,  and  yet  I  never  did  a 
better  piece  of  work,  horrid,  and  pleasing, 

1  Tn  reply  to  a  suggestion  which  ultimately  took  effect 
in  the  shape  of  the  volume  called  Across  the  Plains  (Chatto 
and  Windus,  1892). 


VATLIMA    LETTERS.  147 

and  extraordinarily  true;  it  's  sixteen  pages  *89i 
of  the  South  Seas;  their  essence.  What 
am  I  to  do?  Lose  this  little  gem  —  for 
I  '11  be  bold,  and  that  's  what  I  think  it  — 
or  go  on  with  the  rest,  which  I  don't 
believe  in,  and  don't  like,  and  which  can 
never  make  aught  but  a  silly  yarn?  Make 
another  end  to  it?  Ah,  yes,  but  that 's  not 
the  way  I  write;  the  whole  tale  is  implied; 
I  never  use  an  effect  when  I  can  help  it, 
unless  it  prepares  the  effects  that  are  to 
follow;  that's  what  a  story  consists  in. 
To  make  another  end,  that  is  to  make  the 
beginning  all  wrong.  The  denouement  of 
along  story  is  nothing;  it  is  just  a  "full 
close,"  which  you  may  approach  and  accom- 
pany as  you  please  —  it  is  a  coda,  not  an 
essential  member  in  the  rhythm ;  but  the 
body  and  end  of  a  short  story  is  bone  of 
the  bone  and  blood  of  the  blood  of  the 
beginning.  Well,  I  shall  end  by  finishing 
it  against  my  judgment ;  that  fragment  is 
my  Delilah.  Golly,  it  's  good.  I  am  not 
shining  by  modesty;  but  I  do  just  love  the 


148  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891    colour  and  movement  of  that  piece  so  far  as 
Sept.   . 

it  goes. 

I  was  surprised  to  hear  of  your  fish:ng. 
And  you  saw  the  "  Pharos,"  1  thrice  fortun- 
ate man;  I  wish  I  dared  go  home,  I  wouM 
ask  the  Commissioners  to  take  me  round 
for  old  sake's  sake,  and  see  all  my  family 
pictures  once  more  from  the  Mull  of  Gal- 
loway to  Unst.  However,  all  is  arranged 
for  our  meeting  in  Ceylon,  except  the  date 
and  the  blooming  pounds.  I  have  heard  of 
an  exquisite  hotel  in  the  country,  airy, 
large  rooms,  good  cookery,  not  dear;  we 
shall  have  a  couple  of  months  there,  if  we 
can  make  it  out,  and  converse  or  —  as 
my  grandfather  always  said  —  "  commune. " 
"  Communings  with  Mr.  Kennedy  as  to 
Lighthouse  Repairs."  He  was  a  fine  old 
fellow,  but  a  droll. 

1  The  steam-yacht  of  the  Commissioners  of  Northern 
Lights,  on  which  he  had  been  accustomed  as  a  lad  to 
accompany  his  father  on  the  official  trips  of  inspection 
round  the  coast. 


VA1LIMA   LETTERS.  149 

Evening. 

Lloyd  has  returned.  Peace  and  war  1891 
tvere  played  before  his  eyes  at  heads  or 
tails.  A  German  was  stopped  with  levelled 
guns;  he  raised  his  whip;  had  it  fallen, 
we  might  have  been  now  in  war.  Excuses 
were  made  by  Mataafa  himself.  Doubt- 
less the  thing  was  clone  —  I  mean  the  stop- 
ping of  the  German  —  a  little  to  show  off 

before    Lloyd.       Meanwhile    was    up 

here,  telling  how  the  Chief  Justice  was 
really  gone  for  five  or  eight  weeks,  and 
begging  me  to  write  to  the  Times  and 
denounce  the  state  of  affairs;  many  strong 
reasons  he  advanced  ;  and  Lloyd  and  I  have 
been  since  his  arrival  and  —  — 's  departure, 
near  half  an  hour,  debating  what  should  be 
done.  Cedarcrantz  is  gone;  it  is  not  my 
fault;  he  knows  my  views  on  that  point  — 
alone  of  all  points;  —  he  leaves  me  with 
my  mouth  sealed.  Yet  this  is  a  nice  thing 
that  because  he  is  guilty  of  a  fresh  offence 
—  his  flight  —  the  mouth  of  the  only  . 
possible  influential  witness  should  be 


I5O  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

189*  closed!  I  do  not  like  this  argument.  I 
look  like  a  cad,  if  I  do  in  the  man's 
absence  what  I  could  have  done  in  a  more 
manly  manier  in  his  presence.  True;  but 
why  did  he  go?  It  is  his  last  sin.  And 
I,  who  like  the  man  extremely  —  that  is 
the  word  —  I  love  his  society  —  he  is  intelli- 
gent, pleasant,  even  witty,  a  gentleman  — 
and  you  know  how  that  attaches  —  I  loathe 
to  seem  to  play  a  base  part ;  but  the  poor 
natives  —  who  are  like  other  folk,  false 
enough,  lazy  enough,  not  heroes,  not  saints 
—  ordinary  men  damnably  misused  —  are 
they  to  suffer  because  I  like  Cedarcrantz, 
and  Cedarcrantz  has  cut  his  lucky?  This 
is  a  littla  tragedy,  observe  well  —  a  tragedy ! 
I  may  be  right,  I  may  be  wrong  in  my 
judgment,  but  I  am  in  treaty  with  my 
honour.  I  know  not  how  it  will  seem  to- 
morrow. Lloyd  thought  the  barrier  of 
honour  insurmountable,  and  it  is  an  ugly 
obstacle.  He  (Cedarcrantz)  will  likely 
meet  my  wife  three  days  from  now,  may 
travel  back  with  her,  will  be  charming  if 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  151 

he  does;  suppose  this,  and  suppose    him  to    '891 
arrive  and  find  that  I  have  sprung   a  mine 

—  or  the  nearest  approach  to  it  I  could  find 

—  behind  his  back?      My  position  is  pretty. 
Yes,    I  am  an  aristocrat.       I  have  the   old 
petty,   personal  view  of  honour?      I  should 
blush  till  I  die  if  I  do  this;   yet  it  is  on  the 
cards  that  I  may  do  it.      So  much  I  have 
written  you    in   bed,    as    a   man  writes,   or 
talks,  in  a  bittrc  WaJil.      Now  I  shall  sleep, 
and  see  if  I  am  more  clear.      I  will  consult 
the  missionaries   at    least  —  I   place    some 
reliance    in    M.    also  —  or   I    should    if  he 
were  not  a  partisan  ;   but  a  partisan  he  is. 
There  's  the  pity.      To   sleep!     A  fund  of 
wisdom  in  the  prostrate   body  and  the  fed 
brain.      Kindly   observe   R.    L.     S.    in   the 
talons  of  politics!      '  Tis  funny —  't  is  sad. 
Nobody  but  these  cursed   idiots  could  have 
so  driven  me;  I  cannot  bear  idiots. 

My  dear  Colvin,  T  must  go  to  sleep;  it  is 
long  past  ten — a  dreadful  hour  for  me. 
And  here  am  I  lingering  (so  I  feel)  in  the 
dining-room  at  the  Monument,  talking  to 


152  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

189!    vou  across  the  table,  both  on  our  feet,  and 
Sept. 

only  the  two  stairs  to  mount,  and  get  to 
bed,  and  sleep,  and  be  waked  by  dear  old 
George  —  to  whom  I  wish  my  kindest 
remembrances  —  next  morning.  I  look 
round,  and  there  is  my  blue  room,  and  my 
long  lines  of  shelves,  and  the  door  gaping 
on  a  moonless  night,  and  no  word  of  S.  C. 
but  his  twa  portraits  on  the  wall.  Good- 
bye, my  dear  fellow,  and  good-night. 
Queer  place  the  world ! 

Monday. 

No  clearness  of  mind  with  the  morning; 
I  have  no  guess  what  I  should  do.  'T  is 
easy  to  say  that  the  public  duty  should 
brush  aside  these  little  considerations  of 
personal  dignity;  so  it  is  that  politicians 
begin,  and  in  a  month  you  find  them  rat 
and  flatter  and  intrigue  with  brows  of 
brass.  I  am  rather  of  the  old  view,  that  a 
man's  first  duty  is  to  these  little  laws;  the 
big  he  does  not,  he  never  will  understand; 
I  may  be  wrong  about  the  Chief  Justice 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  153 

and  the  Baron  and  the  state  of  Samoa;  I    1891 

Scot 
cannot  be  wrong  about  the  vile  attitude  I 

put  myself  in  if  I  blow  the  gaff  on  Cedar- 
crantz  behind  his  back. 


Tuesday. 

One  more  word  about  the  South  Seas,  in 
answer  to  a  question  I  observe  I  have  for- 
gotten to  answer.  The  Tahiti  part  has 
never  turned  up,  because  it  has  never  been 
written.  As  for  telling  you  where  I  went 
or  when,  or  anything  about  Honolulu,  I 
would  rather  die;  that  is  fair  and  plain. 
How  can  anybody  care  when  or  how  I  left 
Honolulu?  A  man  of  upwards  of  forty 
cannot  waste  his  time  in  communicating 
matter  of  that  indifference.  The  letters, 
it  appears,  are  tedious;  they  would  be 
more  tedious  still  if  I  wasted  my  time 
upon  such  infantile  and  sucking-bottle 
details.  If  ever  I  put  in  any  such  detail, 
it  is  because  it  leads  into  something  or 
serves  as  a  transition.  To  tell  it  for  its 
own  sake,  never!  The  mistake  is  all 


154  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  through  that  I  have  told  too  much;  I  had 
not  sufficient  confidence  in  the  reader,  and 
have  overfed  him ;  and  here  are  you  anxious 
to  learn  how  I  —  O  Colvin !  Suppose  it 
had  made  a  book,  all  such  information  is 
given  to  one  glance  of  an  eye  by  a  map 
with  a  little  dotted  line  upon  it.  But  let 
us  forget  this  unfortunate  affair. 

Wednesday. 

Yesterday  I  went  down  to  consult  Clarke, 
who  took  the  view  of  delay.  Has  he 
changed  his  mind  already?  I  wonder: 
here  at  least  is  the  news.  Some  little 
while  back  some  men  of  Manono  —  what 
is  Manono  ?  —  a  Samoan  rotten  borough, 
a  small  isle  of  huge  political  importance, 
heaven  knows  why,  where  a  handful  of 
chiefs  make  half  the  trouble  in  the  country. 
Some  men  of  Manono  (which  is  strong 
Mataafa)  burned  down  the  houses  and  de- 
stroyed the  crops  of  some  Malietoa  neigh- 
bours. The  President  went  there  the  other 
day  and  landed  alone  on  the  island,  which 


YA1LIMA   LETTERS.  155 

(to  give  him  his  due)  was  plucky.  More-  \$9l 
over,  he  succeeded  in  persuading  the  folks 
to  come  up  and  be  judged  on  a  particular 
day  in  Apia.  That  day  they  did  not  come; 
but  did  come  the  next,  and  to  their  vast 
surprise,  were  given  six  months'  imprison- 
ment and  clapped  in  gaol.  Those  who  had 
accompanied  them,  cried  to  them  on  the 
streets  as  they  were  marched  to  prison, 
"Shall  we  rescue  you?  "  The  condemned, 
marching  in  the  hands  of  thirty  men  with 
loaded  rifles,  cried  out  "No!"  And  the 
trick  was  done.  But  it  was  ardently  be- 
lieved a  rescue  would  be  attempted;  the 
gaol  was  laid  about  with  armed  men  day 
and  night;  but  there  was  some  question  of 
their  loyalty,  and  the  commandant  of  the 
forces,  a  very  nice  young  beardless  Swede, 
became  nervous,  and  conceived  a  plan. 
How  if  he  should  put  dynamite  under  the 
gaol,  and  in  case  of  an  attempted  rescue 
blow  up  prison  and  all?  He  went  to  the 
President,  who  agreed ;  he  went  to  the 
American  man-of-war  for  the  dynamite 


156  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  and  machine,  was  refused,  and  got  it  at 
last  from  the  Wreckers.  The  thing  began 
to  leak  out,  and  there  arose  a  muttering  in 
town.  People  had  no  fancy  for  amateur 
explosions,  for  one  thing.  For  another,  it 
did  not  clearly  appear  that  it  was  legal;  the 
men  had  been  condemned  to  six  months' 
prison,  which  they  were  peaceably  under- 
going; they  had  not  been  condemned  to 
death.  And  lastly,  it  seemed  a  somewhat 
advanced  example  of  civilisation  to  set 
before  barbarians.  The  mutter  in  short 
became  a  storm,  and  yesterday,  while  I 
was  down,  a  cutter  was  chartered,  and  the 
prisoners  were  suddenly  banished  to  the 
Tokelaus.  Who  has  changed  the  sentence  ? 
We  are  going  to  stir  in  the  dynamite 
matter;  we  do  not  want  the  natives  to 
fancy  us  consenting  to  such  an  outrage.1 

Fanny  has  returned  from  her  trip,  and 
on  the  whole  looks  better.  The  High 

1  More  about  this  affair  is  to  be  found  in  the  writer's 
letters  of  the  same  date  to  the  Times,  and  in  his  Footnote 
to  History,  p.  297. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  157 

Woods  are  under  way,  and  their  name  is  1891 
now  the  Beach  of  Falesd,  and  the  yarn  is 
cured.  I  have  about  thirty  pages  of  it 
done;  it  will  be  fifty  to  seventy  I  suppose. 
No  supernatural  trick  at  all;  and  escaped 
out  of  it  quite  easily;  can't  think  why  I 
was  so  stupid  for  so  long.  Mighty  glad  to 
have  Fanny  back  to  this  "Hell  of  the 
South  Seas,"  as  the  German  Captain  called 
it.  What  will  Cedarcrantz  think  when  he 
comes  back?  To  do  him  justice,  had  he 
been  here,  this  Manono  hash  would  not 
have  been. 

Here  is  a  pretty  thing.  When  Fanny 
was  in  Fiji  all  the  Samoa  and  Toeklau 
folks  were  agog  about  our  "flash"  house; 
but  the  whites  had  never  heard  of  it. 

ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON, 
Author  of  The  Beach  of  Falesd. 


XI 

Sept.  28. 

1891  MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  —  Since  I  last  laid 
Sept<  down  my  pen,  I  have  written  and  rewritten 
The  Beach  of  Falesd;  something  like  sixty 
thousand  words  of  sterling  domestic  fiction 
(the  story,  you  will  understand,  is  only 
half  that  length);  and  now  I  don't  want  to 
write  any  more  again  for  ever,  or  feel  so; 
and  I  've  got  to  overhaul  it  once  again  to 
my  sorrow.  I  was  all  yesterday  revising, 
and  found  a  lot  of  slacknesses  and  (what  is 
worse  in  this  kind  of  thing)  some  literary- 
isms.  One  of  the  puzzles  is  this:  It  is  a 
first  person  story  —  a  trader  telling  his  own 
adventure  in  an  island.  When  I  began  I 
allowed  myself  a  few  liberties,  because  I 
was  afraid  of  the  end ;  now  the  end  proved 
quite  easy,  and  could  be  done  in  the  pace; 
so  the  beginning  remains  about  a  quarter 
tone  out  (in  places);  but  I  have  rather 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  159 

decided  to  let  it  stay  so.  The  problem  is  ',891 
always  delicate;  it  is  the  only  thing  that 
worries  me  in  first  person  tales,  which 
otherwise  (quo'  Alan)  "set  better  wi'  my 
genius."  There  is  a  vast  deal  of  fact  in 
the  story,  and  some  pretty  good  comedy. 
It  is  the  first  realistic  South  Sea  story;  I 
mean  with  real  South  Sea  character  and 
details  of  life.  Everybody  else  who  has 
tried,  that  I  have  seen,  got  carried  away  by 
the  romance,  and  ended  in  a  kind  of  sugar- 
candy  sham  epic,  and  the  whole  effect  was 
lost  —  there  was  no  etching,  no  human 
grin,  consequently  no  conviction.  Now  I 
have  got  the  smell  and  look  of  the  thing  a 
good  deal.  You  will  know  more  about  the 
South  Seas  after  you  have  read  my  little 
tale  than  if  you  had  read  a  library.  As 
to  whether  any  one  else  will  read  it,  I 
have  no  guess.  I  am  in  an  off  time,  but 
there  is  just  the  possibility  it  might  make 
a  hit ;  for  the  yarn  is  good  and  melodra- 
matic, and  there  is  quite  a  love  affair  —  for 
me;  and  Mr.  Wiltshire  (the  narrator)  is  a 


I6O  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  huge  lark,  though  I  say  it.  But  there  is 
always  the  exotic  question,  and  everything, 
the  life,  the  place,  the  dialects  —  trader's 
talk,  which  is  a  strange  conglomerate  of 
literary  expressions  and  English  and 
American  slang,  and  Beach  de  Mar,  or 
native  English,  —  the  very  trades  and 
hopes  and  fears  of  the  characters,  are  all 
novel,  and  may  be  found  unwelcome  to 
that  great,  hulking,  bullering  whale,  the 
public. 

Since  I  wrote,  I  have  been  likewise 
drawing  up  a  document  to  send  it  to  the 
President;  it  has  been  dreadfully  delayed, 
not  by  me,  but  to-day  they  swear  it  will  be 
sent  in.  A  list  of  questions  about  the 
dynamite  report  are  herein  laid  before  him, 
and  considerations  suggested  why  he  should 
answer. 

October  $th. 

Ever  since  my  last  snatch  I  have  been 
much  chivied  about  over  the  President 
business;  his  answer  has  come,  and  is  an 
evasion  accompanied  with  schoolboy  inso- 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  l6l 

lencc,  and  we  are  going  to  try  to  answer  1891 
it.  I  drew  my  answer  and  took  it  down 
yesterday;  but  one  of  the  signatories  wants 
another  paragraph  added,  which  I  have  not 
yet  been  able  to  draw,  and  as  to  the  wisdom 
of  which  I  am  not  yet  convinced. 

ATcxt  day,  Oct.  7th,  the  right  day. 

We  are  all  in  rather  a  muddled  state 
with  our  President  affair.  I  do  loathe 
politics,  but  at  the  same  time,  I  cannot 
stand  by  and  have  the  natives  blown  in  the 
air  treacherously  with  dynamite.  They 
are  still  quiet;  how  long  this  may  continue 
I  do  not  know,  though  of  course  by  mere 
prescription  the  Government  is  strength- 
ened, and  is  probably  insured  till  the  next 
taxes  fall  due.  But  the  unpopularity  of 
the  whites  is  growing.  My  native  over- 
seer, the  great  Henry  Simele,  announced 
to-day  that  he  was  "  weary  of  whites  upon 
the  beach.  All  too  proud,"  said  this  vera- 
cious witness.  One  of  the  proud  ones  had 
threatened  yesterday  to  cut  off  his  head 

VOL.  I.  —  II 


1 62  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  with  a  bush  knife !  These  are  "  native  out- 
rages ;  "  honour  bright,  and  setting  theft 
aside,  in  which  the  natives  are  active,  this 
is  the  main  stream  of  irritation.  The 
natives  are  generally  courtly,  far  from 
always  civil,  but  really  gentle,  and  with  a 
strong  sense  of  honour  of  their  own,  and 
certainly  quite  as  much  civilised  as  our 
dynamiting  President. 

We  shall  be  delighted  to  see  Kipling.1 
I  go  to  bed  usually  about  half-past  eight, 
and  my  lamp  is  out  before  ten ;  I  breakfast 
at  six.  We  may  say  roughly  we  have  no 
soda  water  on  the  island,  and  just  now 
truthfully  no  whisky.  I  have  heard  the 
chimes  at  midnight;  now  no  more,  I  guess. 
But —  Fanny  and  I,  as  soon  as  we  can  get 
coins  for  it,  are  coming  to  Europe,  not  to 
England:  I  am  thinking  of  Royat.  Bar 
wars.  If  not,  perhaps  the  Apennines 
might  give  us  a  mountain  refuge  for  two 

1  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling  was  at  this  time  planning;  a  trip 
to  Samoa,  hut  the  plan  was  unfortunately  not  carried  out, 
and  he  and  Stenvenson  never  met. 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  163 

months  or  three  in  summer.      How  is  that    1891 

Oct. 

for  high  ?     But  the  money  must  be  all  in 
hand  first. 

October  \yh, 

How  am  I  to  describe  my  life  these  last 
few  days  ?  I  have  been  wholly  swallowed 
up  in  politics,  a  wretched  business,  with 
fine  elements  of  farce  in  it  too,  which  repay 
a  man  in  passing,  involving  many  dark  and 
many  moonlight  rides,  secret  councils 
which  are  at  once  divulged,  sealed  letters 
which  are  read  aloud  in  confidence  to  the 
neighbours,  and  a  mass  of  fudge  and  fun, 
which  would  have  driven  me  crazy  ten 
years  ago,  and  now  makes  me  smile. 

On  Friday,  Henry  came  and  told  us  he 
must  leave  and  go  to  "my  poor  old  family 
in  Savaii;"  why?  I  do  not  quite  know  — 
but  I  suspect  to  be  tattooed  —  if  so,  then 
probably  to  be  married,  and  we  shall  see 
him  no  more.  I  told  him  he  must  do  what 
he  thought  his  duty;  we  had  him  to  lunch, 
drank  his  health,  and  he  and  I  rode  down 
about  twelve.  When  I  got  down,  I  sent 


164  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  rny  horse  back  to  help  bring  down  the 
family  later.  My  own  afternoon  was  cut 
out  for  me ;  my  last  draft  for  the  President 
had  been  objected  to  by  some  of  the  signa- 
tories. I  stood  out,  and  one  of  our  small 
number  accordingly  refused  to  sign.  Him 
I  had  to  go  and  persuade,  which  went  off 
very  well  after  the  first  hottish  moments; 
you  have  no  idea  how  stolid  my  temper  is 
now.  By  about  five  the  thing  was  done; 
and  we  sat  down  to  dinner  at  the  China- 
man's —  the  Verrey  or  Doyen's  of  Apia  — 
G.  and  I  at  each  end  as  hosts;  G. 's  wife 
—  Fanua,  late  maid  of  the  village;  her 
(adopted)  father  and  mother,  Seumanu  and 
Faatulia,  Fanny,  Belle,  Lloyd,  Austin, 
and  Henry  Simele",  his  last  appearance. 
Henry  was  in  a  kilt  of  gray  shawl,  with  a 
blue  jacket,  white  shirt  and  black  necktie, 
and  looked  like  a  dark  genteel  guest  in  a 
Highland  shooting-box.  Seumanu  (oppo- 
site Fanny,  next  G. )  is  chief  of  Apia,  a 
rather  big  gun  in  this  place,  looking  like  a 
large,  fatted,  military  Englishman,  bar  the 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  1 65 

colour.  Faatulia,  next  me,  is  a  bigger  chief  l89! 
than  her  husband.  Henry  is  a  chief  too 
—  his  chief  name,  liga  (Ee-eeng-a),  he  has 
not  yet  "taken"  because  of  his  youth. 
We  were  in  fine  society,  and  had  a  pleasant 
meal-time,  with  lots  of  fun.  Then  to  the 
Opera  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  mean  the 
Circus.  We  occupied  the  first  row  in 
the  reserved  seats,  and  there  in  the  row 
behind  were  all  our  friends  —  Captain  Foss 
and  his  Captain- Lieutenant,  three  of  the 
American  officers,  very  nice  fellows,  the 
Dr.,  etc.,  so  we  made  a  fine  show  of  what 
an  embittered  correspondent  of  the  local 
paper  called  "the  shoddy  aristocracy  of 
Apia;"  and  you  should  have  seen  how  we 
carried  on,  and  how  I  clapped,  and  Captain 
Foss  hollered  "  tvnndcrscJion !  "  and  threw 
himself  forward  in  his  seat,  and  how  we 
all  in  fact  enjoyed  ourselves  like  school- 
children, Austin  not  a  shade  more  than  his 
neighbours.  Then  the  Circus  broke  up,  and 
the  party  went  home,  but  I  stayed  down, 
having  business  on  the  morrow. 


1 66  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  Yesterday,  October  I2th,  great  news 
reaches  me,  and  Lloyd  and  I,  with  the 
mail  just  coming  in,  must  leave  all,  saddle, 
and  ride  down.  True  enough,  the  Presi- 
dent had  resigned !  Sought  to  resign  his 
presidency  of  the  council,  and  keep  his 
advisership  to  the  King;  given  way  to  the 
Consul's  objections  and  resigned  all  —  then 
fell  out  with  them  about  the  disposition  of 
the  funds,  and  was  now  trying  to  resign 
from  his  resignation  !  Sad  little  President, 
so  trim  to  look  at,  and  I  believe  so  kind  to 
his  little  wife!  Not  only  so,  but  I  meet 
D.  on  the  beach.  D.  calls  me  in  consulta- 
tion, and  we  make  with  infinite  difficulty  a 
draft  of  a  petition  to  the  King.  .  .  .  Then 
to  dinner  at  M.'s,  a  very  merry  meal, 
interrupted  before  it  was  over  by  the 
arrival  of  the  committee.  Slight  sketch 
of  procedure  agreed  upon,  self-appointed 
spokesman,  and  the  deputation  sets  off. 
Walk  all  through  Matafele,  all  along 
Mulinuu,  come  to  the  King's  house;  he 
has  verbally  refused  to  see  us  in  answer  to 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  l6/ 

our  letter,  swearing  he  is  gase-gase  (chief- 
sickness,  not  common  man's),  and  indeed 
we  see  him  inside  in  bed.  It  is  a  miserable 
low  house,  better  houses  by  the  dozen  in 
the  little  hamlet  (Tanugamanono)  of  bush- 
men  on  our  way  to  Vailima;  and  the 
President's  house  in  process  of  erection 
just  opposite !  We  are  told  to  return  to- 
morrow ;  I  refuse ;  and  at  last  we  are  very 
sourly  received,  sit  on  the  mats,  and  I 
open  out,  through  a  very  poor  interpreter, 
and  sometimes  hampered  by  unacceptable 
counsels  from  my  backers.  I  can  speak 
fairly  well  in  a  plain  way  now.  C.  asked 
me  to  write  out  my  harangue  for  him  this 
morning;  I  have  clone  so,  and  couldn't  get 
it  near  as  good.  I  suppose  (talking  and 
interpreting)  I  was  twenty  minutes  or  half- 
an-hour  on  the  deck;  then  his  majesty 
replied  in  the  dying  whisper  of  a  big  chief; 
a  few  words  of  rejoinder  (approving),  and 
the  deputation  withdrew,  rathsr  well 
satisfied. 

A  few  days  ago  this  intervention  would 


1 68  VAILIMA    LETTERS. 

l89!    have  been  a  deportable  offence;  not  now, 

Oct. 

I  bet;  I  would  like  them  to  try.      A  litile 

way  back  along  Mulinuu,  Mrs.  G.  met  us 
with  her  husband's  horse;  and  he  and  she 
and  Lloyd  and  I  rode  back  in  a  heavenly 
moonlight.  Here  ends  a  chapter  in  the 
life  of  an  island  politician !  Catch  me  at 
it  again;  't  is  easy  to  go  in,  but  it  is  not  a 
pleasant  trade.  I  have  had  a  good  team, 
as  good  as  I  could  get  on  the  beach ;  but 
what  trouble  even  so,  and  what  fresh 
troubles  shaping.  But  I  have  on  the  whole 
carried  all  my  points;  I  believe  all  but 
one,  and  on  that  (which  did  not  concern 
me)  I  had  no  right  to  interfere.  I  am  sure 
you  would  be  amazed  if  you  knew  what  a 
good  hand  I  am  at  keeping  my  temper, 
talking  people  over,  and  giving  reasons 
which  are  not  my  reasons,  but  calculated 
for  the  meridian  of  the  particular  objec- 
tion ;  so  soon  does  falsehood  await  the 
politician  in  his  whirling  path. 


XII 


Monday,  October  2 


MY  DEAR  CARTHEW,1  —  See  what  I  have    l89* 

Oct. 
written,  but  it 's  Colvin  I  'm  after  —  I  have 

written  two  chapters,  about  thirty  pages  of 
Wrecker  since  the  mail  left,  which  must  be 
my  excuse,  and  the  bother  I  've  had  with  it 
is  not  to  be  imagined;  you  might  have 
seen  me  the  day  before  yesterday  weighing 
British  sov. 's  and  Chili  dollars  to  arrange 
my  treasure  chest.  And  there  was  such  a 
calculation,  not  for  that  only,  but  for  the 
ship's  position  and  distances  when  —  but  I 
am  not  going  to  tell  you  the  yarn  —  and 
then,  as  my  arithmetic  is  particularly  lax, 
Lloyd  had  to  go  over  all  my  calculations; 
and  then,  as  I  had  changed  the  amount  of 
money,  he  had  to  go  over  all  Jiis  as  to  the 

1  Readers  of  the  Wrecker  will  not  need  to  be  reminded 
that  this  is  the  name  of  the  personage  on  whom  the  mystery 
in  that  story  hinges. 


I/O  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  amount  of  the  lay;  and  altogether,  a  bank 
could  be  run  with  less  effusion  of  figures 
than  it  took  to  shore  up  a  single  chapter  of 
a  measly  yarn.  However,  it  's  done,  and  I 
have  but  one  more,  or  at  the  outside,  two 
to  do,  and  I  am  Free!  and  can  do  any 
damn  thing  I  like. 

Before  falling  on  politics,  I  shall  give 
you  my  day.  Awoke  somewhere  about  the 
first  peep  of  day,  came  gradually  to,  and 
had  a  turn  on  the  verandah  before  5.55, 
when  "the  child"  (an  enormous  Wallis 
Islander)  brings  me  an  orange ;  at  6,  break- 
fast; 6.10,  to  work;  which  lasts  till,  at 
10. 30,  Austin  comes  for  his  history  lecture ; 
this  is  rather  dispiriting,  but  education 
must  be  gone  about  in  faith  —  and  charity, 
both  of  which  pretty  nigh  failed  me  to-day 
about  (of  all  things)  Carthage;  n,  lunch- 
eon; after  luncheon  in  my  mother's  room, 
I  read  Chapter  XXIII.  of  The  Wrecker, 
then  Belle,  Lloyd,  and  I  go  up  and  make 
music  furiously  till  about  2  (I  suppose), 
when  I  turn  into  work  again  till  4;  fool 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  I/ 1 

from  4  to  half-past,  tired  out  and  waiting  1891 
for  the  bath  hour;  4.30,  bath;  4.40,  eat 
two  heavenly  mangoes  on  the  verandah, 
and  see  the  boys  arrive  with  the  pack- 
horses;  5,  dinner;  smoke,  chat  on  verandah, 
then  hand  of  cards,  and  at  last  at  8  come 
up  to  my  room  with  a  pint  of  beer  and  a 
hard  biscuit,  which  I  am  now  consuming, 
and  as  soon  as  they  are  consumed  I  shall 
turn  in. 

Such  are  the  innocent  days  of  this 
ancient  and  outworn  sportsman;  to-day 
there  was  no  weeding,  usually  there  is 
however,  edged  in  somewhere.  My  books 
for  the  moment  are  a  crib  to  Phseclo,  and 
the  second  book  of  Montaigne ;  and  a 
little  while  back  I  was  reading  Frederic 
Harrison,  "Choice  of  Books,"  etc.  — very 
good  indeed,  a  great  deal  of  sense  and 
knowledge  in  the  volume,  and  some  very 
true  stuff,  contra  Carlyle,  about  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  A  hideous  idea  came  over 
me  that  perhaps  Harrison  is  now  getting 
old.  Perhaps  you  are.  Perhaps  I  am. 


1/2  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89*  Oh,  this  infidelity  must  be  stared  firmly 
down.  I  am  about  twenty-three  —  say 
twenty-eight;  you  about  thirty,  or,  by  'r 
lady,  thirty-four;  and  as  Harrison  belongs 
to  the  same  generation,  there  is  no  good 
bothering  about  him. 

Here  has  just  been  a  fine  alert;  I  gave 
my  wife  a  dose  of  chlorodyne.  "Some- 
thing wrong,"  says  she.  "Nonsense,"  said 
I.  "  Embrocation,"  said  she.  I  smelt  it, 
and  —  it  smelt  very  funny.  "  I  think  it  's 
just  gone  bad,  and  to-morrow  will  tell. " 
Proved  to  be  so. 

Wednesday. 

History  of  Tuesday.  —  Woke  at  usual 
time,  very  little  work,  for  I  was  tired,  and 
had  a  job  for  the  evening  —  to  write  parts 
for  a  new  instrument,  a  violin.  Lunch, 
chat,  and  up  to  my  place  to  practise;  but 
there  was  no  practising  for  me  —  my 
flageolet  was  gone  wrong,  and  I  had  to 
take  it  all  to  pieces,  clean  it,  and  put  it  up 
again.  As  this  is  a  most  intricate  job  — 
the  thing  dissolves  into  seventeen  separate 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  I/J 

members,  most  of  these  have  to   be  fitted    ^91 

Oct. 

on  their  individual  springs  as  fine  as 
needles,  and  sometimes  two  at  once  with 
the  springs  shoving  different  ways  —  it 
took  me  till  two.  Then  Lloyd  and  I  rode 
forth  on  our  errands;  first  to  Motootua, 
where  we  had  a  really  instructive  conver- 
sation on  weeds  and  grasses.  Thence 
down  to  Apia,  where  we  bought  a  fresh 
bottle  of  chlorodyne  and  conversed  on 
politics. 

My  visit  to  the  King,  which  I  thought 
at  the  time  a  particularly  nugatory  and 
even  schoolboy  step,  and  only  consented  to 
because  I  had  held  the  reins  so  tight  over 
my  little  band  before,  has  raised  a  deuce 
of  a  row  —  new  proclamation,  no  one  is 
to  interview  the  sacred  puppet  without 
consuls'  permission,  two  days'  notice,  and 
an  approved  interpreter  —  read  (I  suppose) 
spy.  Then  back;  I  should  have  said  I 
was  trying  the  new  horse ;  a  tallish  piebald, 
bought  from  the  circus ;  he  proved  steady 
and  safe,  but  in  very  bad  condition,  and 


174  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  not  so  much  the  wild  Arab  steed  of  the 
desert  as  had  been  supposed.  The  height 
of  his  back,  after  commodious  Jack, 
astonished  me,  and  I  had  a  great  conscious- 
ness of  exercise  and  florid  action,  as  I 
posted  to  his  long,  emphatic  trot.  We  had 
to  ride  back  easy ;  even  so  he  was  hot  and 
blown ;  and  when  we  set  a  boy  to  lead  him 
to  and  fro,  our  last  character  for  sanity 
perished.  We  returned  just  neat  for 
dinner;  and  in  the  evening  our  violinist 
arrived,  a  young  lady,  no  great  virtuoso 
truly,  but  plucky,  industrious,  and  a  good 
reader;  and  we  played  five  pieces  with 
huge  amusement,  and  broke  up  at  nine. 
This  morning  I  have  read  a  splendid  piece 
of  Montaigne,  written  this  page  of  letter, 
and  now  turn  to  the  Wrecker. 

Wednesday  —  November  i6th  or  i/th  — 
and  I  am  ashamed  to  say  mail  day.  The 
Wrecker  is  finished,  that  is  the  best  of  my 
news;  it  goes  by  this  mail  to  Scribner's; 
and  I  honestly  think  it  a  good  yarn  on  the 
whole  and  of  its  measly  kind.  The  part 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  175 

that  is  genuinely  good  is  Nares,  the  l89' 
American  sailor;  that  is  a  genuine  figure; 
had  there  been  more  Nares  it  would  have 
been  a  better  book;  but  of  course  it  did  n't 
set  up  to  be  a  book,  only  a  long  tough  yarn 
with  some  pictures  of  the  manners  of  to- 
day in  the  greater  world  —  not  the  shoddy 
sham  world  of  cities,  clubs,  and  colleges, 
but  the  world  where  men  still  live  a  man's 
life.  The  worst  of  my  news  is  the  in- 
fluenza; Apia  is  devastate;  the  shops 
closed,  a  ball  put  off,  etc.  As  yet  we 
have  not  had  it  at  Vailima,  and  who  knows? 
we  may  escape.  None  of  us  go  down,  but 
of  course  the  boys  come  and  go. 

Your  letter  had  the  most  wonderful  "  I 
told  you  so  "  I  ever  heard  in  the  course  of 
my  life.  Why,  you  madman,  I  would  n't 
change  my  present  installation  for  any 
post,  dignity,  honour,  or  advantage  conceiv- 
able to  me.  It  fills  the  bill ;  I  have  the 
loveliest  time.  And  as  for  wars  and 
rumours  of  war,  you  surely  know  enough  of 
me  to  be  aware  that  I  like  that  also  a  thon- 


176  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  sand  times  better  than  decrepit  peace  in 
Middlesex?  I  do  not  quite  like  politics; 
I  am  too  aristocratic,  I  fear,  for  that. 
God  knows  I  don't  care  who  I  chum  with; 
perhaps  like  sailors  best;  but  to  go  round 
and  sue  and  sneak  to  keep  a  crowd  together 
—  never.  My  imagination,  which  is  not 
the  least  damped  by  the  idea  of  having  my 
head  cut  off  in  the  bush,  recoils  aghast 
from  the  idea  of  a  life  like  Gladstone's, 
and  the  shadow  of  the  newspaper  chills  me 
to  the  bone.  Hence  my  late  eruption  was 
interesting,  but  not  what  I  like.  All  else 
suits  me  in  this  (killed  a  mosquito)  Ai 
abode. 

About  politics.  A  determination  was 
come  to  by  the  President  that  he  had  been 
an  idiot;  emissaries  came  to  G.  and  me  to 
kiss  and  be  friends.  My  man  proposed  I 
should  have  a  personal  interview ;  I  said  it 
was  quite  useless,  I  had  nothing  to  say;  I 
had  offered  him  the  chance  to  inform  me, 
had  pressed  it  on  him,  and  had  been  very 
unpleasantly  received,  and  now  "Time 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  I// 

was. "  Then  it  was  decided  that  I  was  to  1891 
be  made  a  culprit  against  Germany;  the 
German  Captain  —  a  delightful  fellow  and 
our  constant  visitor  —  wrote  to  say  that  as 
"a  German  officer"  he  could  not  come 
even  to  say  farewell.  We  all  wrote  back 
in  the  most  friendly  spirit,  telling  him 
(politely)  that  some  of  these  days  he  would 
be  sorry,  and  we  should  be  delighted  to 
see  our  friend  again.  Since  then  I  have 
seen  no  German  shadow. 

Mataafa  has  been  proclaimed  a  rebel ;  the 
President  did  this  act,  and  then  resigned. 
By  singular  good  fortune,  Mataafa  has  not 
yet  moved;  no  thanks  to  our  idiot  gov- 
ernors. They  have  shot  their  bolt;  they 
have  made  a  rebel  of  the  only  man  (to  their 
own  knowledge,  on  the  report  of  their  oivn 
spy)  who  held  the  rebel  party  in  check; 
and  having  thus  called  on  war  to  fall,  they 
can  do  no  more,  sit  equally  "expertes"  of 
vis  and  counsel,  regarding  their  handi- 
work. It  is  always  a  cry  with  these  folk 
that  he  (Mataafa)  had  no  ammunition.  I 


1/8  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891   always    said    it   would   be   found ;    and  we 

Oct. 

know  of  five  boat-loads  that  have  found 
their  way  to  Malie  already.  Where  there 
are  traders,  there  will  be  ammunition; 
aphorism  by  R.  L.  S. 

Now  what  am  I  to  do  next? 

Lives  of  the  Stevensons?  Historia 
Samoa?  A  History  for  Children?  Fiction? 
I  have  had  two  hard  months  at  fiction; 
I  want  a  change.  Stevensons  ?  I  am 
expecting  some  more  material ;  perhaps 
better  wait.  Samoa;  rather  tempting; 
might  be  useful  to  the  islands  —  and  to 
me;  for  it  will  be  written  in  admirable 
temper;  I  have  never  agreed  with  any 
party,  and  see  merits  and  excuses  in  all ; 
should  do  it  (if  I  did)  very  slackly  and 
easily,  as  if  half  in  conversation.  History 
for  Children?  This  flows  from  my  lessons 
to  Austin;  no  book  is  any  good.  The  best 
I  have  seen  is  Freeman's  Old  English 
History ;  but  his  style  is  so  rasping,  and  a 
child  can  learn  more,  if  he's  clever.  I 
found  my  sketch  of  general  Aryan  History, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  179 

given  in  conversation,  to  have  been  prac-  1891 
tically  correct  —  at  least  what  I  mean  is, 
Freeman  had  very  much  the  same  stuff  in 
his  early  chapters,  only  not  so  much,  and 
I  thought  not  so  well  placed;  and  the  child 
remembered  some  of  it.  Now  the  difficulty 
is  to  give  this  general  idea  of  main  place, 
growth,  and  movement;  it  is  needful  to 
tack  it  on  a  yarn.  Now  Scotch  is  the  only 
History  I  know;  it  is  the  only  history 
reasonably  represented  in  my  library;  it  is 
a  very  good  one  for  my  purpose,  owing  to 
LVVO  civilisations  having  been  face  to  face 
throughout  —  or  rather  Roman  civilisation 
face  to  face  with  our  ancient  barbaric  life 
and  government,  down  to  yesterday,  to 
1750  anyway.  But  the  Talcs  of  a  Grand- 
father stand  in  my  way;  I  am  teaching 
them  to  Austin  now,  and  they  have  all 
Scott's  defects  and  all  Scott's  hopeless 
merit.  I  cannot  compete  with  that ;  and 
yet,  so  far  as  regards  teaching  History, 
how  he  has  missed  his  chances !  I  think 
I  '11  try;  I  really  have  some  historic  sense, 


ISO  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

189*    I  feel   that    in  my  bones.     Then  there  's 
Oct.  . 

another    thing.     Scott     never     knew    the 

Highlands;  he  was  always  a  Borderer. 
He  has  missed  that  whole,  long,  strange, 
pathetic  story  of  our  savages,  and,  besides, 
his  style  is  not  very  perspicuous  to  child- 
hood. Gad,  I  think  I  '11  have  a  flutter. 
Buridan's  Ass!  Whether  to  go,  what  to 
attack.  Must  go  to  other  letters;  shall 
add  to  this,  if  I  have  time. 


XIII 

ATov.  zfyh,  1891. 

MY    DEAR    COLVIX,     MY    DEAR    COLVIN.   —     l89* 

Nov 

I  wonder  how  often  I  'in  going  to  write  it. 
In  spite  of  the  loss  of  three  days,  as  I  have 
to  tell,  and  a  lot  of  weeding  and  cacao 
planting,  I  have  finished  since  the  mail 
left  four  chapters,  forty-eight  pages  of  my 
Samoa  history.  It  is  true  that  the  first 
three  had  been  a  good  deal  drafted  two 
years  ago,  but  they  had  all  to  be  written 
and  re-written,  and  the  fourth  chapter  is 
all  new.  Chapter  I.  Elements  of  Discord 
—  Native.  II.  Elements  of  Discord  — 
Foreign.  III.  The  Success  of  Eaupepa. 
IV.  Brandeis.  V.  Will  probably  be  called 
"The  Rise  of  Mataafa. "  VI.  Furor  Con- 
sularis  —  a  devil  of  a  long  chapter.  VII 
Stuebel  the  Pacificator.  VIII.  Govern- 
ment under  the  Treaty  of  Berlin.  IX. 
Practical  Suggestions.  Say  three-sixths  of 


182  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  it  are  done,  maybe  more ;  by  this  mail  five 
chapters  should  go,  and  that  should  be  a 
good  half  of  it;  say  sixty  pages.  And  if 
you  consider  that  I  sent  by  last  mail  the 
end  of  the  Wrecker,  coming  on  for  seventy 
or  eighty  pages,  and  the  mail  before  that 
the  entire  Tale  of  the  Beach  of  Falscd,  I  do 
not  think  I  can  be  accused  of  idleness. 
This  is  my  season ;  I  often  work  six  and 
seven,  and  sometimes  eight  hours ;  and  the 
same  day  I  am  perhaps  weeding  or  planting 
for  an  hour  or  two  more  —  and  I  dare  say 
you  know  what  hard  work  weeding  is  — 
and  it  all  agrees  with  me  at  this  time  of 
the  year  —  like  —  like  idleness,  if  a  man  of 
my  years  could  be  idle. 

My  first  visit  to  Apia  was  a  shock  to 
me;  every  second  person  the  ghost  of  him- 
self, and  the  place  reeking  with  infection. 
But  I  have  not  got  the  thing  yet,  and  hope 
to  escape.  This  shows  how  much  stronger 
I  am ;  think  of  me  flitting  through  a  town 
of  influenza  patients  seemingly  unscathed. 
We  are  all  on  the  cacao  planting. 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  183 

The  next  day  my  wife  and  I  rode  over 
to  the  German  plantation,  Vailele,  whose 
manager  is  almost  the  only  German  left  to 
speak  to  us.  Seventy  labourers  down  with 
influenza!  It  is  a  lovely  ride,  half-way 
clown  our  mountain  towards  Apia,  then 
turn  to  the  right,  ford  the  river,  and  three 
miles  of  solitary  grass  and  cocoa  palms,  to 
where  the  sea  beats  and  the  wild  wind 
blows  unceasingly  about  the  plantation 
house.  On  the  way  down  Fanny  said, 
"  Now  wrhat  would  you  do  if  you  saw 
Colvin  coming  up?" 

Next  day  we  rode  down  to  Apia  to  make 
calls. 

Yesterday  the  mail  came,  and  the  fat  was 
in  the  fire. 

Book.1  All  right  I  must  say  I  like 
your  order.  And  the  papers  are  some  of 
them  up  to  dick,  and  no  mistake.  I  agree 

1  Across  the  Plains.  The  papers  specially  referred  to 
in  the  next  lines  are  those  written  at  Saranac  Lake  in  the 
winter  of  1887-8,  including  A  Letter  to  a  Young  Gentleman, 
Pulvis  et  Umbra,  A  Christmas  Sermon. 


1 84  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  with  you  the  lights  seem  a  little  turned 
down.  The  truth  is,  I  was  far  through  (if 
you  understand  Scots),  and  came  none  too 
soon  to  the  South  Seas,  where  I  was  to 
recover  peace  of  body  and  mind.  No  man 
but  myself  knew  all  my  bitterness  in  those 
days.  Remember  that,  the  next  time  you 
think  I  regret  my  exile.  And  however 
low  the  lights  are,  the  stuff  is  true,  and  I 
believe  the  more  effective;  after  all,  what 
I  wish  to  fight  is  the  best  fought  by  a 
rather  cheerless  presentation  of  the  truth. 
The  world  must  return  some  day  to  the 
word  duty,  and  be  done  with  the  word  re- 
ward. There  are  no  rewards,  and  plenty 
duties.  And  the  sooner  a  man  sees  that 
and  acts  upon  it  like  a  gentleman  or  a  fine 
old  barbarian,  the  better  for  himself. 

There  is  my  usual  puzzle  about  pub- 
lishers. Chatto  ought  to  have  it,  as  he 
has  all  the  other  essays;  these  all  belong 
to  me,  and  Chatto  publishes  on  terms. 
Longman  has  forgotten  the  terms  we  are 
on ;  let  him  look  up  our  first  correspon- 


VAILIMA    LE'ITERS.  1 8$ 

dence,  and  he  will  see  I  reserved  explicitly,  ^9* 
as  was  my  habit,  the  right  to  republish  as 
I  choose.  Had  the  same  arrangement  with 
Henley,  Magazine  of  Art,  and  with  Tulloch, 
Eraser's.  —  For  any  necessary  note  or 
preface,  it  would  be  a  real  service  if  you 
would  undertake  the  duty  yourself.  I 
should  love  a  preface  by  you,  as  short  or 
as  long  as  you  choose,  three  sentences, 
thirty  pages,  the  thing  I  should  like  is 
your  name.  And  the  excuse  of  my  great 
distance  seems  sufficient.  I  shall  return 
with  this  the  sheets  corrected  as  far  as  I 
have  them;  the  rest  I  will  leave,  if  ycu 
will,  to  you  entirely;  let  it  be  your  book, 
and  disclaim  what  you  dislike  in  the 
preface.  You  can  say  it  was  at  my  eager 
prayer.  I  should  say  I  am  the  less  willing 
to  pass  Chatto  over,  because  he  behaved 
the  other  day  in  a  very  handsome  manner. 
He  asked  leave  to  reprint  Damicn;  I  gave 
it  to  him  as  a  present,  explaining  I  could 
receive  no  emolument  for  a  personal  attack. 
And  he  took  out  my  share  of  profits,  and 


1 86  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

l89*    sent  them  in  my  name  to  the  Leper  Fund. 

Nov. 

I  could  not  bear  after  that  to  take  from 
him  any  of  that  class  of  books  which  I 
have  always  given  him.  Tell  him  the  same 
terms  will  do,  Clark  to  print,  uniform  with 
the  others. 

I  have  lost  all  the  days  since  this  letter 
began  re-handling  Chapter  IV.  of  the 
Samoa  racket.  I  do  not  go  in  for  litera- 
ture; address  myself  to  sensible  people 
rather  than  to  sensitive.  And,  indeed,  it 
is  a  kind  of  journalism,  I  have  no  right  to 
dally;  if  it  is  to  help,  it  must  come  soon. 
In  two  months  from  now  it  shall  be  done, 
and  should  be  published  in  the  course  of 
March.  I  propose  Cassell  gets  it.  I  am 
going  to  call  it  "A  Footnote  to  History: 
Eight  Years  of  Trouble  in  Samoa,"  I 
believe.  I  recoil  from  serious  names; 
they  seem  so  much  too  pretentious  for  a 
pamphlet.  It  will  be  about  the  size  of 
Treasure  Island,  I  believe.  Of  course,  as 
you  now  know,  my  case  of  conscience 
cleared  itself  off,  and  I  began  my  interven- 


VAILIMA  LETTERS.  1 87 

tion  directly  to  one  of  the  parties.  The 
other,  the  Chief  Justice,  I  am  to  inform  of 
my  book  the  first  occasion.  God  knows  if 
the  book  will  do  any  good  —  or  harm  ;  but 
I  judge  it  right  to  try.  There  is  one  man's 
life  certainly  involved ;  and  it  may  be  all 
our  lives.  I  must  not  stand  and  slouch, 
but  do  my  best  as  best  I  can.  But  you 
may  conceive  the  difficulty  of  a  history 
extending  to  the  present  week,  at  least, 
and  where  almost  all  the  actors  upon  all 
sides  are  of  my  personal  acquaintance. 
The  only  way  is  to  judge  slowly,  and  write 
boldly,  and  leave  the  issue  to  fate.  ...  I 
am  far  indeed  from  wishing  to  confine 
myself  to  creative  work ;  that  is  a  loss,  the 
other  repairs;  the  one  chance  for  a  man, 
and,  above  all,  for  one  who  grows  elderly, 
ahem,  is  to  vary  drainage  and  repair.  That 
is  the  one  thing  I  understand  —  the  culti- 
vation of  the  shallow  sohim  of  my  brain. 
But  I  would  rather,  from  soon  on,  be 
released  from  the  obligation  to  write. 
In  five  or  six  years  this  plantation  — 


1 88  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89x    suppose   it   and  us  still  to  exist — should 
Dec. 

pretty  well  support  us  and  pay  wages; 
not  before,  and  already  the  six  years 
seem  long  to  me.  If  literature  were  but 
a  pastime! 

I  have  interrupted  myself  to  write  the 
necessary  notification  to  the  Chief  Justice. 

I  see  in  looking  up  Longman's  letter 
that  it  was  as  usual  the  letter  of  an  obli- 
ging gentleman ;  so  do  not  trouble  him  with 
my  reminder.  I  wish  all  my  publishers 
were  not  so  nice.  And  I  have  a  fourth  and 
a  fifth  baying  at  my  heels;  but  for  these, 
of  course,  they  must  go  wanting. 

Dec,  2nd. 

No  answer  from  the  Chief  Justice,  which 
is  like  him,  but  surely  very  wrong  in  such 
a  case.  The  lunch  bell !  I  have  been  off 
work,  playing  patience  and  weeding  all 
morning.  Yesterday  and  the  day  before  I 
drafted  eleven  and  revised  nine  pages  of 
Chapter  V.,  and  the  truth  is,  I  was  extinct 
by  lunch-time,  and  played  patience  sourly 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  189 

the  rest  of  the   day.      To-morrow  or  next    1891 

Dec. 
day  I  hope  to  go  in  again  and  win.     Lunch 

2nd  Bell. 

Dec.  2nd,  afternoon. 

I  have  kept  up  the  idleness ;  blew  on  the 
pipe  to  Belle's  piano;  then  had  a  ride  in 
the  forest  all  by  my  nainsel;  back  and 
piped  again,  and  now  dinner  nearing. 
Take  up  this  sheet  with  nothing  to  say. 
The  weird  figure  of  Faauma  is  in  the  room 
washing  my  windows,  in  a  black  lavalava 
(kilt)  with  a  red  handkerchief  hanging  from 
round  her  neck  between  her  breasts;  not 
another  stitch ;  her  hair  close  cropped  and 
oiled ;  when  she  first  came  here  she  was  an 
angelic  little  stripling,  but  she  is  now  in 
full  flower  —  or  half-flower  —  and  grows 
buxom.  As  I  write,  I  hear  her  wet  cloth 
moving  and  grunting  with  some  industry; 
for  I  had  a  word  this  day  with  her  husband 
on  the  matter  of  work  and  meal-time,  when 
she  is  always  late.  And  she  has  a  vague 
reverence  for  Papa,  as  she  and  her  enor- 
mous husband  address  me  when  anything 


IQO  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  is  wrong.  Her  husband  is  Lafaele,  some- 
times called  the  archangel,  of  whom  I  have 
writ  you  often.  Rest  of  our  household, 
Talolo,  cook;  Pulu,  kitchen  boy,  good, 
steady,  industrious  lads;  Henry,  back 
again  from  Savaii,  where  his  love  affair 
seems  not  to  have  prospered,  with  what 
looks  like  a  spear-wound  in  the  back  of  his 
head,  of  which  Mr.  Reticence  says  noth- 
ing; Simi,  Manuele,  and  two  other  labourers 
out-doors.  Lafaele  is  provost  of  the  live- 
stock, whereof  now,  three  milk-cows,  one 
bull-calf,  one  heifer,  Jack,  Macfarlane,  the 
mare,  Harold,  Tifaga  Jack,  Donald  and 
Edinburgh  —  seven  horses  —  O,  and  the 
stallion  —  eight  horses;  five  cattle;  total, 
if  my  arithmetic  be  correct,  thirteen  head 
of  beasts;  I  don't  know  how  the  pigs 
stand,  or  the  ducks,  or  the  chickens;  but 
we  get  a  good  many  eggs,  and  now  and 
again  a  duckling  or  a  chickling  for  the 
table;  the  pigs  are  more  solemn,  and 
appear  only  on  birthdays  and  sich. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  19! 

Monday,  Dec.  7. 

On  Friday  morning  about  eleven  1500  1891 
cacao  seeds  arrived,  and  we  set  to  and 
toiled  from  twelve  that  day  to  six,  and 
went  to  bed  pretty  tired.  Next  day  I  got 
about  an  hour  and  a  half  at  my  History, 
and  was  at  it  again  by  8.  10,  and  except  an 
hour  for  lunch  kept  at  it  till  four  p.  M. 
Yesterday,  I  did  some  History  in  the 
morning,  and  slept  most  of  the  afternoon ; 
and  to-day,  being  still  averse  from  physical 
labour,  and  the  mail  drawing  nigh,  drew  out 
of  the  squad,  and  finished  for  press  the 
fifth  chapter  of  my  History;  fifty-nine 
pages  in  one  month;  which  (you  will  allow 
me  to  say)  is  a  devil  of  a  large  order;  it 
means  at  least  177  pages  of  writing;  89,000 
words !  and  hours  going  to  and  fro  among 
my  notes.  However,  this  is  the  way  it  has 
to  be  done;  the  job  must  be  done  fast,  or 
it  is  of  no  use.  And  it  is  a  curious  yarn. 
Honestly,  I  think  people  should  be  amused 
and  convinced,  if  they  could  be  at  the 
pains  to  look  at  such  a  damned  outlandish 


IQ2  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891   piece  of  machinery,  which  of  course  they 
won't.     And  much  I  care. 

When  I  was  filling  baskets  all  Saturday, 
in  my  dull  mulish  way,  perhaps  the  slowest 
worker  there,  surely  the  most  particular, 
and  the  only  one  that  never  looked  up  or 
knocked  off,  I  could  not  but  think  I  should 
have  been  sent  on  exhibition  as  an  example 
to  young  literary  men.  Here  is  how  to 
learn  to  write,  might  be  the  motto.  You 
should  have  seen  us;  the  verandah  was  like 
an  Irish  bog;  our  hands  and  faces  were 
bedaubed  with  soil ;  and  Faauma  was  sup- 
posed to  have  struck  the  right  note  when 
she  remarked  (apropos  of  nothing),  "Too 
much  eleele  (soil)  for  me!"  The  cacao 
(you  must  understand)  has  to  be  planted  at 
first  in  baskets  of  plaited  cocoa-leaf.  From 
four  to  ten  natives  were  plaiting  these  in 
the  wood-shed.  Four  boys  were  digging 
up  soil  and  bringing  it  by  the  boxful  to 
the  verandah.  Lloyd  and  I  and  Belle,  and 
sometimes  S.  (who  came  to  bear  a  hand), 
were  filling  the  baskets,  removing  stones 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  193 

and    lumps    of   clay;  Austin    and    Faauma    1891 

Dec. 
carried    them    when    full    to    Fanny,    who 

planted  a  seed  in  each,  and  then  set  them, 
packed  close,  in  the  corners  of  the  verandah. 
From  twelve  on  Friday  till  five  p.  M.  on 
Saturday  we  planted  the  first  1500,  and 
more  than  700  of  a  second  lot.  You  can- 
not dream  how  filthy  we  were,  and  we  were 
all  properly  tired.  They  are  all  at  it 
again  to-day,  bar  Belle  and  me,  not  re- 
quired, and  glad  to  be  out  of  it.  The  Chief 
Justice  has  not  yet  replied,  and  I  have 
news  that  he  received  my  letter.  What  a 
man ! 

I  have  gone  crazy  over  Bourget's  Sensa- 
tions d'ltalie;  hence  the  enclosed  dedica- 
tion,1 a  mere  cry  of  gratitude  for  the  best 
fun  I  've  had  over  a  new  book  this  ever  so! 

1  For  the  volume  Across  the  Plains. 


XIV 

Tuesday,  Dec.  1891. 

l89i        SIR, —  I  have  the  honour  to  report  further 

Dec. 

explorations  of  the  course  of  the  river 
Vaea,  with  accompanying  sketch  plan. 
The  party  under  my  command  consisted  of 
one  horse,  and  was  extremely  insubordinate 
and  mutinous,  owing  to  not  being  used  to 
go  into  the  bush,  and  being  half-broken 
anyway  —  and  that  the  wrong  half.  The 
route  indicated  for  my  party  was  up  the 
bed  of  the  so-called  river  Vaea,  which  I 
accordingly  followed  to  a  distance  of  per- 
haps two  or  three  furlongs  eastward  from 
the  house  of  Vailima,  where  the  stream 
being  quite  dry,  the  bush  thick,  and  the 
ground  very  difficult,  I  decided  to  leave 
the  main  body  of  the  force  unaer  my  com- 
mand tied  to  a  tree,  and  push  on  myself 
with  the  point  of  the  advance  guard,  con- 
sisting of  one  man.  The  valley  had 


VAILIMA   LETTERS. 


195 


become   very   narrow    and    airless;  foliage    1891 
close    shut  above;  dry  bed   of  the  stream 
much    excavated,    so   that   I    passed   under 
fallen    trees  without    stooping.      Suddenly 


•  •      - 

u      A   >  ' — 

<  ^**u&r>-£---t-i-. 


it  turned  sharply  to  the  north,  at  right 
angles  to  its  former  direction ;  I  heard 
living  water,  and  came  in  view  of  a  tall 
face  of  rock  and  the  stream  spraying  down 


196  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  it;  it  might  have  been  climbed,  but  it 
would  have  been  dangerous,  and  I  had  to 
make  my  way  up  the  steep  earth  banks, 
where  there  is  nowhere  any  footing  for 
man,  only  for  trees,  which  made  the  rounds 
of  my  ladder.  I  was  near  the  top  of  this 
climb,  which  was  very  hot  and  steep,  and 
the  pulses  were  buzzing  all  over  my  body, 
when  I  made  sure  there  was  one  external 
sound  in  my  ears,  and  paused  to  listen. 
No  mistake;  a  sound  of  a  mill-wheel 
thundering,  I  thought,  close  by,  yet  below 
me,  a  huge  mill-wheel,  yet  not  going 
steadily,  but  with  a  scliottiscJie  movement, 
and  at  each  fresh  impetus  shaking  the 
mountain.  There,  where  I  was,  I  just  put 
down  the  sound  to  the  mystery  of  the  bush ; 
where  no  sound  now  surprises  me  —  and 
any  sound  alarms;  I  only  thought  it  would 
give  Jack  a  fine  fright,  down  where  he 
stood  tied  to  a  tree  by  himself,  and  he  was 
badly  enough  scared  when  I  left  him.  The 
good  folks  at  home  identified  it ;  it  was  a 
sharp  earthquake. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  197 

At  the  top  of  the  climb  I  made  my  way  ^9* 
again  to  the  water-course;  it  is  here  run- 
ning steady  and  pretty  full;  strange  these 
intermittencies  —and  just  a  little  below 
the  main  stream  is  quite  dry,  and  all  the 
original  brook  has  gone  down  some  lava 
gallery  of  the  mountain  —  and  just  a  little 
further  below,  it  begins  picking  up  from  the 
left  hand  in  little  boggy  tributaries,  and 
in  the  inside  of  a  hundred  yards  has  grown 
a  brook  again. l  The  general  course  of  the 

1  As  to  this  peculiar  intermittency  of  the  Samoan 
streams,  full  in  their  upper  course,  but  below  in  many 
places  dry  or  lost,  compare  the  late  Lord  Pembroke's 
SoutJi  Sea  Bubbles,  p.  212:  —  "One  odd  thing  connected 
with  these  ravines  is  the  fact  that  the  higher  you  go  the 
more  water  you  find.  Unlike  the  Thames,  which  begins, 
I  believe,  in  half  a  mile  of  dusty  lane,  and  expands  in  its 
brimming  breadth  as  it  approaches  the  sea,  a  Samoan 
stream  begins  in  bubbling  plenty  and  ends  in  utter  drought 
a  mile  or  two  from  the  salt  water.  Gradually  as  you  as- 
cend you  become  more  and  more  hopeful  ;  moist  patches 
of  sand  appear  here  and  there,  then  tiny  pools  that  a  fallen 
leaf  might  cover,  then  larger  ones  with  little  thread-like 
runs  of  water  between  them  :  larger  and  larger,  till  at  last 
you  reach  some  hard  ledge  of  trap,  over  which  a  glorious 
stream  gurgles  and  splashes  into  a  pool  ample  enough  for 
the  bath  of  an  elephant." 


198  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l89r  brook  was,  I  guess,  S.  E.  ;  the  valley  still 
very  deep  and  whelmed  in  wood.  It 
seemed  a  swindle  to  have  made  so  sheer  a 
climb  and  still  find  yourself  at  the  bottom 
of  a  well.  But  gradually  the  thing  seemed 
to  shallow,  the  trees  to  seem  poorer  and 
smaller;  I  could  see  more  and  more  of  the 
silver  sprinkles  of  sky  among  the  foliage, 
instead  of  the  sombre  piling  up  of  tree 
behind  tree.  And  here  I  had  two  scares 
—  first,  away  up  on  my  right-hand  I  heard 
a  bull  low;  I  think  it  was  a  bull  from  the 
quality  of  the  low,  which  was  singularly 
songful  and  beautiful;  the  bulls  belong  to 
me,  but  how  did  I  know  that  the  bull  was 
aware  of  that  ?  and  my  advance  guard  not 
being  at  all  properly  armed,  we  advanced 
with  great  precaution  until  I  was  satisfied 
that  I  was  passing  eastward  of  the  enemy. 
It  was  during  this  period  that  a  pool  of  the 
river  suddenly  boiled  up  in  my  face  in  a 
little  fountain.  It  was  in  a  very  dreary, 
marshy  part  among  dilapidated  trees  that 
you  see  through  holes  in  the  trunks  of; 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  199 

and  if  any  kind  of  beast  or  elf  or  devil  had    l89J 

Dec. 
come  out  of  that  sudden  silver  ebullition, 

I  declare  I  do  not  think  I  should  have 
been  surprised.  It  was  perhaps  a  thing  as 
curious  —  a  fish,  with  which  these  head 
waters  of  the  stream  are  alive.  They  are 
some  of  them  as  long  as  my  finger,  should 
be  easily  caught  in  these  shallows,  and 
some  day  I  '11  have  a  dish  of  them. 

Very  soon  after  I  came  to  where  the 
stream  collects  in  another  banana  swamp, 
with  the  bananas  bearing  well.  Beyond, 
the  course  is  again  quite  dry;  it  mounts 
with  a  sharp  turn  a  very  steep  face  of  the 
mountain,  and  then  stops  abruptly  at  the 
lip  of  a  plateau,  T  suppose  the  top  of  Vaea 
mountain:  plainly  no  more  springs  here  — 
there  was  no  smallest  furrow  of  a  water- 
course beyond  —  and  my  task  might  be  said 
to  be  accomplished.  But  such  is  the  ani- 
mated spirit  in  the  service  that  the  whole 
advance  guard  expressed  a  sentiment  of 
disappointment  that  an  exploration,  so  far 
successfully  conducted,  should  come  to  a. 


200  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  stop  in  the  most  promising  view  of  fresh 
successes.  And  though  unprovided  either 
with  compass  or  cutlass,  it  was  determined 
to  push  some  way  along  the  plateau,  mark- 
ing our  direction  by  the  laborious  process 
of  bending  down,  sitting  upon,  and  thus 
breaking  the  wild  cocoanut  trees.  This  was 
the  less  regretted  by  all  from  a  delightful 
discovery  made  of  a  huge  banyan  growing 
here  in  the  bush,  with  flying-buttressed 
flying  buttresses,  and  huge  arcs  of  trunk 
hanging  high  overhead  and  trailing  down 
new  complications  of  root.  I  climbed 
some  way  up  what  seemed  the  original 
beginning;  it  was  easier  to  climb  than  a 
ship's  rigging,  even  rattljd;  everywhere 
there  was  foot -hold  and  hand-hold.  It  was 
judged  wise  to  return  and  rally  the  main 
body,  who  had  now  been  left  alone  for 
perhaps  forty  minutes  in  the  bush. 

The  return  was  effected  in  good  order, 
but  unhappily  I  only  arrived  (like  so  many 
other  explorers)  to  find  my  main  body  or 
rear-guard  in  a  condition  of  mutiny;  the 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  2OI 

work,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  of  terror.  It  is  l89l 
right  I  should  tell  you  the  Vaea  has  a  bad 
name,  an  aitu  fafine  —  female  devil  of 
the  woods  —  succubus — haunting  it,  and 
doubtless  Jack  had  heard  of  her;  perhaps, 
during  my  absence,  saw  her;  lucky  Jack! 
Anyway,  he  was  neither  to  hold  nor  to 
bind,  and  finally,  after  nearly  smashing  me 
by  accident,  and  from  mere  scare  and 
insubordination  several  times,  deliberately 
set  in  to  kill  me;  but  poor  Jack!  the  tree 
he  selected  for  that  purpose  was  a  banana! 
I  jumped  off  and  gave  him  the  heavy  end 
of  my  whip  over  the  buttocks!  Then  I 
took  and  talked  in  his  ear  in  various 
voices  ;  you  should  have  heard  my  alto  —  it 
was  a  dreadful,  devilish  note — I  knew 
Jack  kneiu  it  was  an  aitn.  Then  I  mounted 
him  again,  and  he  carried  me  fairly  steadily. 
He  '11  learn  yet.  He  has  to  learn  to  trust 
absolutely  to  his  rider;  till  he  does,  the 
risk  is  always  great  in  thick  bush,  where  a 
fellow  must  try  different  passages,  and  put 
back  and  forward,  and  pick  his  way  by 
hair's-breadths. 


202  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  The  expedition  returned  to  Vailima  in 
time  to  receive  the  visit  of  the  R.  C. 
Bishop.  He  is  a  superior  man,  much 
above  the  average  of  priests. 


Thursday. 

Yesterday  the  same  expedition  set  forth 
to  the  southward  by  what  is  known  as 
Carruthers'  Road.  At  a  fallen  tree  which 
completely  blocks  the  way,  the  main  body 
was  as  before  left  behind,  and  the  advance 
guard  of  one  now  proceeded  with  the 
exploration.  At  the  great  tree  known  as 
Mepi  Tree,  after  Maben  the  surveyor,  the 
expedition  struck  forty  yards  due  west  till 
it  struck  the  top  of  a  steep  bank  which  it 
descended.  The  whole  bottom  of  the 
ravine  is  filled  with  sharp  lava  blocks 
quite  unrolled  and  very  difficult  and 
dangerous  to  walk  among ;  no  water  in  the 
course,  scarce  any  sign  of  water.  And  yet 
surely  water  must  have  made  this  bold 
cutting  in  the  plateau.  And  if  so,  why  is 
the  lava  sharp?  My  science  gave  out;  but 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  203 

i  could  not  but  think  it  ominous  and  l89r 
volcanic.  The  course  of  the  stream  was 
tortuous,  but  with  a  resultant  direction  a 
little  by  west  of  north  ;  the  sides  the  whole 
way  exceeding  steep,  the  expedition  buried 
under  fathoms  of  foliage.  Presently  water 
appeared  in  the  bottom,  a  good  quantity; 
perhaps  thirty  or  forty  cubic  feet,  with 
pools  and  waterfalls.  A  tree  that  stands 
all  along  the  banks  here  must  be  very  fond 
of  water;  its  roots  lie  close-packed  down 
the  stream,  like  hanks  of  guts,  so  as  to 
make  often  a  corrugated  walk,  each  root 
ending  in  a  blunt  tuft  of  filaments,  plainly 
to  drink  water.  Twice  there  came  in  small 
tributaries  from  the  left  or  western  side  — 
the  whole  plateau  having  a  smartish  incli- 
nation to  the  east ;  one  of  the  tributaries 
in  a  handsome  little  web  of  silver  hanging 
in  the  forest.  Twice  I  was  startled  by 
birds;  one  that  barked  like  a  dog;  another 
that  whistled  loud  ploughman's  signals,  so 
that  I  vow  I  was  thrilled,  and  thought  I  had 
fallen  among  runaway  blacks,  and  regretted 


204  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891    rny  cutlass  which  I  had  lost  and  left  behind 
Dec. 

while  taking  bearings.     A  good  many  fishes 

in  the  brook,  and  many  cray-fish;  one  of 
the  last  with  a  queer  glow-worm  head. 
Like  all  our  brooks,  the  water  is  pure  as 
air,  and  runs  over  red  stones  like  rubies. 
The  foliage  along  both  banks  very  thick 
and  high,  the  place  close,  the  walking 
exceedingly  laborious.  By  the  time  the 
expedition  reached  the  fork,  it  was  felt  ex- 
ceedingly questionable  whether  the  moral 
of  the  force  were  sufficiently  good  to  under- 
take more  extended  operations.  A  halt 
was  called,  the  men  refreshed  with  water 
and  a  bath,  and  it  was  decided  at  a  drum- 
head council  of  war  to  continue  the  descent 
of  the  Embassy  Water  straight  for  Vailima, 
whither  the  expedition  returned,  in  rather 
poor  condition,  and  wet  to  the  waist,  about 
4  P.  M. 

Thus  in  two  days  the  two  main  water- 
courses of  this  country  have  been  pretty 
thoroughly  explored,  and  I  conceive  my 
instructions  fully  carried  out.  The  main 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  205 

body  of  the  second  expedition  was  brought  1891 
back  by  another  officer  despatched  for  that 
purpose  from  Vailima.  Casualties:  one 
horse  wounded ;  one  man  bruised ;  no 
deaths  —  as  yet,  but  the  bruised  man  feels 
to-day  as  if  his  case  was  mighty  serious. 


Dec.  25,  '91. 

Your  note  with  a  very  despicable  bulletin 
of  health  arrived  only  yesterday,  the  mail 
being  a  day  behind.  It  contained  also  the 
excellent  Times  article,  which  was  a  sight 
for  sore  eyes.  I  am  still  taboo ;  the  blessed 
Germans  will  have  none  of  me;  and  I  only 
hope  they  may  enjoy  the  Times  article. 
'T  is  my  revenge!  I  wish  you  had  sent 
the  letter  too,  as  I  have  no  copy,  and  do 
not  even  know  what  I  wrote  the  last  day, 
with  a  bad  headache,  and  the  mail  going 
out.  However,  it  must  have  been  about 
right,  for  the  Times  article  was  in  the 
spirit  I  wished  to  arouse.  I  hope  we  can 
get  rid  of  the  man  before  it  is  too  late. 
He  has  set  the  natives  to  war;  but  the 


2O6  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1891  natives,  by  God's  blessing,  do  not  want  to 
fight,  and  I  think  it  will  fizzle  out  —  no 
thanks  to  the  man  who  tried  to  start  it. 
But  I  did  not  mean  to  drift  into  these 
politics;  rather  to  tell  you  what  I  have 
done  since  I  last  wrote. 

Well,  I  worked  away  at  my  History  for 
a  while,  and  only  got  one  chapter  done ; 
no  doubt  this  spate  of  work  is  pretty  low 
now,  and  will  be  soon  dry ;  but,  God  bless 
you,  what  a  lot  I  have  accomplished ; 
Wrecker  done,  Beach  of  Falesd  done,  half 
the  History:  c  est  etonnant.  (I  hear  from 
Burlingame,  by  the  way,  that  he  likes  the 
end  of  the  Wrecker;  't  is  certainly  a 
violent,  dark  yarn  with  interesting,  plain 
turns  of  human  nature),  then  Lloyd  and  I 
went  down  to  live  in  Haggard's  rooms, 
where  Fanny  presently  joined  us.  Hag- 
gard's rooms  are  in  a  strange  old  building 
—  old  for  Samoa,  and  has  the  effect  of  the 
antique  like  some  strange  monastery;  I 
would  tell  you  more  of  it,  but  I  think  I  'm 
going  to  use  it  in  a  tale.  The  annexe  close 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  2O/ 

by  had  its  door  sealed ;  poor  Dowdney  lost  1891 
at  sea  in  a  schooner.  The  place  is  haunted. 
The  vast  empty  sheds,  the  empty  store,  the 
airless,  hot,  long,  low  rooms,  the  claps  of 
wind  that  set  everything  flying  —  a  strange 
uncanny  house  to  spend  Christmas  in. 

Jan.  ist,'c)2. 

For  a  day  or  two  I  have  sat  close  and  1892 
wrought  hard  at  the  History,  and  two  more 
chapters  are  all  but  done.  About  thirty 
pages  should  go  by  this  mail,  which  is  not 
what  should  be,  but  all  I  could  overtake. 
Will  any  one  ever  read  it?  I  fancy  not; 
people  don't  read  history  for  reading,  but 
for  education  and  display  —  and  who  desires 
education  in  the  history  of  Samoa,  with 
no  population,  no  past,  no  future,  or  the 
exploits  of  Mataafa,  Malietoa,  and  Consul 
Knappe?  Colkitto  and  Galasp  are  a  trifle 
to  it.  Well,  it  can't  be  helped,  and  it 
must  be  done,  and  better  or  worse,  it  's 
capital  fun.  There  are  two  to  whom  I 
have  not  been  kind  —  German  Consul 
Becker  and  English  Captain  Hand,  R.  N. 


2O8  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  On  Dec.  3Oth  I  rode  down  with  Belle 
to  go  to  (if  you  please)  the  Fancy  Ball. 
When  I  got  to  the  beach,  I  found  the 
barometer  was  below  29°,  the  wind  still  in 
the  east  and  steady,  but  a  huge  offensive 
continent  of  clouds  and  vapours  forming  to 
leeward.  It  might  be  a  hurricane;  I  dared 
not  risk  getting  caught  away  from  my 
work,  and  leaving  Belle,  returned  at  once 
to  Vailima.  Next  day  —  yesterday  —  it 
was  a  tearer ;  we  had  storm  shutters  up ;  I 
sat  in  my  room  and  wrote  by  lamplight  — 
ten  pages,  if  you  please,  seven  of  them 
draft,  and  some  of  these  compiled  from  as 
many  as  seven  different  and  conflicting 
authorities,  so  that  was  a  brave  day's  work. 
About  two  a  huge  tree  fell  within  sixty 
paces  of  our  house;  a  little  after,  a  second 
went;  and  we  sent  out  boys  with  axes  and 
cut  down  a  third,  which  was  too  near  the 
house,  and  buckling  like  a  fishing  rod. 
At  dinner  we  had  the  front  door  closed  and 
shuttered,  the  back  door  open,  the  lamp 
lit.  The  boys  in  the  cook-house  were  all 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  209 

out  at  the  cook-house  door,  where  we  could  l892 
see  them  looking  in  and  smiling.  Lauilo 
and  Faauma  waited  on  us  with  smiles. 
The  excitement  was  delightful.  Some 
very  violent  squalls  came  as  we  sat  there, 
and  everyone  rejoiced;  it  was  impossible 
to  help  it ;  a  soul  of  putty  had  to  sing. 
All  night  it  blew;  the  roof  was  continually 
sounding  under  missiles;  in  the  morning 
the  verandahs  were  half  full  of  branches 
torn  from  the  forest.  There  was  a  last 
very  wild  squall  about  six;  the  rain,  like  a 
thick  white  smoke,  flying  past  the  house 
in  volleys,  and  as  swift,  it  seemed,  as  rifle 
balls;  all  with  a  strange,  strident  hiss, 
such  as  I  have  only  heard  before  at  sea, 
and,  indeed,  thought  to  be  a  marine  phe- 
nomenon. Since  then  the  wind  has  been 
falling  with  a  few  squalls,  mostly  rain. 
But  our  road  is  impassable  for  horses;  we 
hear  a  schooner  has  been  wrecked  and 
some  native  houses  blown  down  in  Apia, 
where  Belle  is  still  and  must  remain  a 
prisoner.  Lucky  I  returned  while  I  could ! 


210  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

^92  But  the  great  good  is  this;  much  bread- 
fruit and  bananas  have  been  destroyed ;  if 
this  be  general  through  the  islands,  famine 
will  be  imminent;  and  whoever  blows  the 
coals,  there  can  be  no  war.  Do  I  then 
prefer  a  famine  to  a  war?  you  ask.  Not 
always,  but  just  now.  I  am  sure  the 
natives  do  not  want  a  war;  I  am  sure  a 
war  would  benefit  no  one  but  the  white 
officials,  and  I  believe  we  can  easily  meet 
the  famine  —  or  at  least  that  it  can  be 
met.  That  would  give  our  officials  a  legi- 
timate opportunity  to  cover  their  past 
errors. 

Jan.  2nd. 

I  woke  this  morning  to  find  the  blow 
quite  ended.  The  heaven  was  all  a  mottled 
gray;  even  the  east  quite  colourless;  the 
downward  slope  of  the  island  veiled  in 
wafts  of  vapour,  blue  like  smoke;  not  a  leaf 
stirred  on  the  tallest  tree ;  only,  three 
miles  away  below  me  on  the  barrier  reef,  I 
could  see  the  individual  breakers  curl  and 
fall,  and  hear  their  conjunct  roaring  rise, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  211 

as  it  still  rises  at  i  p.  M.,  like  the  roar  of  a  1892 
thoroughfare  close  by.  I  did  a  good  morn-  Ja" 
ing's  work,  correcting  and  clarifying  my 
draft,  and  have  now  finished  for  press 
eight  chapters,  ninety-one  pages,  of  this 
piece  of  journalism.  Four  more  chapters, 
say  fifty  pages,  remain  to  be  done;  I  should 
gain  my  wager  and  finish  this  volume  in 
three  months,  that  is  to  say,  the  end 
should  leave  me  per  February  mail ;  I  can- 
not receive  it  back  till  the  mail  of  April. 
Yes,  it  can  be  out  in  time;  pray  God  that 
it  be  in  time  to  help. 

How  do  journalists  fetch  up  their  drivel? 
I  aim  only  at  clearness  and  the  most  obvious 
finish,  positively  at  no  higher  degree  of 
merit,  not  even  at  brevity  —  I  am  sure  it 
could  have  been  all  done,  with  double  the 
time,  in  two-thirds  of  the  space.  And  yet 
it  has  taken  me  two  months  to  write 
45, 500  words  ;  and  be  damned  to  my  wicked 
prowess,  I  am  proud  of  the  exploit!  The 
real  journalist  must  be  a  man  not  of  brass 
only,  but  bronze.  Chapter  IX.  gapes  for 


212  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   me,  but  I  shrink  on  the  margin,  and  go  on 
Jan. 

chattering  to  you.  This  last  part  will  be 
much  less  offensive  (strange  to  say)  to  the 
Germans.  It  is  Becker  they  will  never 
forgive  me  for ;  Knappe  I  pity  and  do  not 
dislike;  Becker  I  scorn  and  abominate. 
Here  is  the  tableau,  i.  Elements  of  Dis- 
cord: Native,  n.  Elements  of  Discord: 
Foreign,  in.  The  Sorrows  of  Laupepa. 
iv.  Brandeis.  v.  The  Battle  of  Matautu. 
vi.  Last  Exploits  of  Becker,  vn.  The 
Samoan  Camps,  vm.  Affairs  of  Lautii 
and  Fangalii.  ix.  "  Furor  Consularis. "  x. 
The  Hurricane,  xi.  Stuebel  Recluse,  xn. 
The  Present  Government.  I  estimate  the 
whole  roughly  at  70,000  words.  Should 
anybody  ever  dream  of  reading  it,  it  would 
be  found  amusing.  -0300l°  =  233  printed 
pages;  a  respectable  little  five-bob  volume, 
to  bloom  unread  in  shop  windows.  After 
that,  I  '11  have  a  spank  at  fiction.  And 
rest  ?  I  shall  rest  in  the  grave,  or  when  I 
come  to  Italy.  If  only  the  public  will 
continue  to  support  me  !  I  lost  my  chance 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  213 

not  dying;  there  seems  blooming  little  fear  '§92 
of  it  now.  I  worked  close  on  five  hours 
this  morning;  the  day  before,  close  on 
nine;  and  unless  I  finish  myself  off  with 
this  letter,  I  '11  have  another  hour  and  a 
half,  or  aiblins  twa,  before  dinner.  Poor 
man,  how  you  must  envy  me,  as  you  hear 
of  these  orgies  of  work,  and  you  scarce  able 
for  a  letter.  But  Lord,  Colvin,  how  lucky 
the  situations  are  not  reversed,  for  I  have 
no  situation,  nor  am  fit  for  any.  Life  is  a 
steigh  brae.  Here,  have  at  Knappe,  and 
no  more  clavers ! 

ya. 

There  was  never  any  man  had  so  many 
irons  in  the  fire,  except  Jim  Pinkerton.1 
1  forgot  to  mention  I  have  the  most 
gallant  suggestion  from  Lang,  with  an 
offer  of  MS.  authorities,  which  turns  my 
brain.  It  's  all  about  the  throne  of  Poland 
and  buried  treasure  in  the  Mackay  country, 
and  Alan  Breck  can  figure  there  in  glory. 

1  In  the  Wrecker.  As  to  the  story  thus  suggested  by 
Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  see  below,  pp.  245,  246,  272-76. 


214  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  Yesterday,  J.  and  I  set  off  to  Blacklock's 
(American  Consul)  who  lives  not  far  from 
that  little  village  I  have  so  often  men- 
tioned as  lying  between  us  and  Apia.  I 
had  some  questions  to  ask  him  for  my 
History;  thence  we  must  proceed  to 
Vailele,  where  I  had  also  to  cross-examine 
the  plantation  manager  about  the  battle 
there.  We  went  by  a  track  I  had  never 
before  followed  down  the  hill  to  Vaisigano, 
which  flows  here  in  a  deep  valley,  and  was 
unusually  full,  so  that  the  horses  trembled  in 
the  ford.  The  whole  bottom  of  the  valley 
is  full  of  various  streams  posting  between 
strips  of  forest  with  a  brave  sound  of 
waters.  In  one  place  we  had  a  glimpse  of 
a  fall  some  way  higher  up,  and  then  spark- 
ling in  sunlight  in  the  midst  of  the  green 
valley.  Then  up  by  a  winding  path  scarce 
accessible  to  a  horse  for  steepness,  to  the 
other  side,  and  the  open  cocoanut  glades  of 
the  plantation.  Here  we  rode  fast,  did  a 
mighty  satisfactory  afternoon's  work  at  the 
plantation  house,  and  still  faster  back. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  215 

On  the  return  Jack  fell  with  me,  but  got  l892 
up  again;  when  I  felt  him  recovering  I 
gave  him  his  head,  and  he  shoved  his  foot 
through  the  rein;  I  got  him  by  the  bit 
however,  and  all  was  well ;  he  had  mud 
over  all  his  face,  but  his  knees  were  not 
broken.  We  were  scarce  home  when  the 
rain  began  again ;  that  was  luck.  It  is 
pouring  now  in  torrents ;  we  are  in  the 
height  of  the  bad  season.  Lloyd  leaves 
along  with  this  letter  on  a  change  to  San 
Francisco ;  he  had  much  need  of  it,  but  I 
think  this  will  brace  him  up.  I  am,  as 
you  see,  a  tower  of  strength.  I  can 
remember  riding  not  so  far  and  not  near  so 
fast  when  I  first  came  to  Samoa,  and  being 
shattered  next  day  with  fatigue;  now  I 
could  not  tell  I  have  done  anything;  have 
re-handled  my  battle  of  Fangalii  according 
to  yesterday's  information — four  pages 
rewritten;  and  written  already  some  half- 
dozen  pages  of  letters. 

I    observe   with    disgust    that    while   of 
yore,  when  I  own  I  was  guilty,  you  never 


2l6  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  spared  me  abuse,  but  now,  when  I  am  so 
virtuous,  where  is  the  praise?  Do  admit 
that  I  have  become  an  excellent  letter- 
writer  —  at  least  to  you,  and  that  your 
ingratitude  is  imbecile.  —  Yours  ever, 

R.   L.   S. 


XV 

Jan.  3U/,  '92.        1892 

MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  —  No  letter  at  all 
from  you,  and  this  scratch  from  me!  Here 
is  a  year  that  opens  ill.  Lloyd  is  off  to 
"the  coast"  sick  —  the  coast  means  Cali- 
fornia over  most  of  the  Pacific  —  I  have 
been  clown  all  month  with  influenza,  and 
am  just  recovering  —  I  am  overlaid  with 
proofs,  which  I  am  just  about  half  fit  to 
attend  to.  One  of  my  horses  died  this 
morning,  and  another  is  now  dying  on  the 
front  lawn  —  Lloyd's  horse  and  Fanny's. 
Such  is  my  quarrel  with  destiny.  But  I 
am  mending  famously,  come  and  go  on  the 
balcony,  have  perfectly  good  nights,  and 
though  I  still  cough,  have  no  oppression 
and  no  hemorrhage  and  no  fever.  So  if  I 
can  find  time  and  courage  to  add  no  more, 
you  will  know  my  news  is  not  altogether 


2l8  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   of  the  worst ;  a  year  or  two  ago,  and  what 

Jan. 

a  state  I  should  have  been  in  now !  Your 
silence,  I  own,  rather  alarms  me.  But  I 
tell  myself  you  have  just  miscarried;  had 
you  been  too  ill  to  write,  some  one  would 
have  written  me.  Understand,  I  send  this 
brief  scratch  not  because  I  am  unfit  to 
write  more,  but  because  I  have  58  galleys 
of  the  Wrecker  and  102  of  the  Beach  of 
Falesd  to  get  overhauled  somehow  or  other 
in  time  for  the  mail,  and  for  three  weeks  I 
have  not  touched  a  pen  with  my  finger. 

Feb.  ist. 

Feb.  The  second  horse  is  still  alive,  but  I 
still  think  dying.  The  first  was  buried 
this  morning.  My  proofs  are  done;  it 
was  a  rough  two  days  of  it,  but  done. 
Consummatum  est;  na  uma.  I  believe  the 
Wrecker  ends  well ;  if  I  know  what  a  good 
yarn  is,  the  last  four  chapters  make  a 
good  yarn  —  but  pretty  horrible.  The 
Beach  of  Falesd  I  still  think  well  of,  but 
it  seems  it  's  immoral  and  there  's  a 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  2lp 

to-do,  and  financially  it  may  prove  a  heavy 
disappointment.  The  plaintive  request 
sent  to  me,  to  make  the  young  folks  mar- 
ried properly  before  "that  night,"  I  re- 
fused; you  will  see  what  would  be  left 
of  the  yarn,  had  I  consented.1  This  is  a 
poison  bad  world  for  the  romancer,  this 
Anglo-Saxon  world;  I  usually  get  out  of 
it  by  not  having  any  women  in  it  at  all ; 
but  when  I  remember  I  had  the  Treasure 
of  FrancJiard  refused  as  unfit  for  a  family 
magazine,  I  feel  despair  weigh  upon  my 
wrists. 

As  I  know  you  are  always  interested  in 
novels,  I  must  tell  you  that  a  new  one  is 
now  entirely  planned.  It  is  to  be  called 
Sophia  Scarlet,  and  is  in  two  parts.  Part 
I.  The  Vanilla  Planter.  Part  II.  The 
Overseers.  No  chapters,  I  think;  just  two 
dense  blocks  of  narrative,  the  first  of 
which  is  purely  sentimental,  but  the 

1  Editors  and  publishers  had  been  inclined  to  shy  at 
the  terms  of  the  fraudulent  marriage  contract,  which  is 
the  pivot  of  the  whole  story ;  see  below.  Letter  XVIII. 


22O  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1892  second  has  some  rows  and  quarrels,  and 
winds  up  with  an  explosion,  if  you  please ! 
I  am  just  burning  to  get  at  Sophia,  but  I 
must  Ao  this  Samoan  journalism  —  that  's  a 
cursed  duty.  The  first  part  of  Sophia,  bar 
the  first  twenty  or  thirty  pages,  writes 
itself;  the  second  is  more  difficult,  involv- 
ing a  good  many  characters  —  about  ten,  I 
think  —  who  have  to  be  kept  all  moving, 
and  give  the  effect  of  a  society.  I  have 
three  women  to  handle,  out  and  well-away! 
but  only  Sophia  is  in  full  tone.  Sophia 
and  two  men,  Windermere,  the  Vanilla 
Planter,  who  dies  at  the  end  of  Part  I.,  and 
Rainsforth,  who  only  appears  in  the  begin- 
ning of  Part  II.  The  fact  is,  I  blush  to 
own  it,  but  Sophia  is  a  regular  novel; 
heroine  and  hero,  and  false  accusation,  and 
love,  and  marriage,  and  all  the  rest  of  it 
—  all  planted  in  a  big  South  Sea  plantation 
run  by  ex-English  officers  —  a  la  Stewart's 
plantation  in  Tahiti.1  There  is  a  strong 

1  For  a  lively  account  of  this  plantation  and  its  history, 
see  South  Sea  Bubbles,  chap.  i. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  221 

undercurrent  of  labour  trade,  which  gives  1892 
it  a  kind  of  Uncle  Tom  flavour,  absit  omen! 
The  first  start  is  hard;  it  is  hard  to  avoid 
a  little  tedium  here,  but  I  think  by  begin- 
ning with  the  arrival  of  the  three  Miss 
Scarlets  hot  from  school  and  society  in 
England,  I  may  manage  to  slide  in  the 
information.  The  problem  is  exactly  a 
Balzac  one,  and  I  wish  I  had  his  fist  —  for 
I  have  already  a  better  method  —  the 
kinetic,  whereas  he  continually  allowed 
himself  to  be  led  into  the  static.  But 
then  he  had  the  fist,  and  the  most  I  can 
hope  is  to  get  out  of  it  with  a  modicum  of 
grace  and  energy,  but  for  sure  without  the 
strong  impression,  the  full,  dark  brush. 
Three  people  have  had  it,  the  real  creator's 
brush:  Scott,  see  much  of  The  Antiquary 
and  The  Heart  of  Midlothian  (especially  all 
round  the  trial,  before,  during,  and  after) 
—  Balzac  —  and  Thackeray  in  Vanity  Fair. 
Everybody  else  either  paints  thin,  or  has  to 
stop  to  paint,  or  paints  excitedly,  so  that 
you  see  the  author  skipping  before  his 


222  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   canvas.      Here    is   a   long   way  from    poor 

Feb.    _...-.        , 

Sophia  Scarlet! 

This  day  is  published 
Sophia  Scarlet 

By 
ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON. 


XVI 


Feb.  1892. 


MY  DEAR  COLVIX,  —  This  has  been  a  1892 
busyish  month  for  a  sick  man.  First, 
Faauma  —  the  bronze  candlestick,  whom 
otherwise  I  called  my  butler —  bolted  from 
the  bed  and  bosom  of  Lafaele,  the  Arch- 
angel Hercules,  perfect  of  the  cattle. 
There  was  the  deuce  to  pay,  and  Hercules 
was  inconsolable,  and  immediately  started 
out  after  a  new  wife,  and  has  had  one  up 
on  a  visit,  but  says  she  has  "no  conversa- 
tion ;"  and  I  think  he  will  take  back  the 
erring  and  possibly  repentent  candlestick; 
whom  we  all  devoutly  prefer,  as  she  is  not 
only  highly  decorative,  but  good-natured, 
and  if  she  does  little  work  makes  no  rows. 
I  tell  this  lightly,  but  it  really  was  a  heavy 
business ;  many  were  accused  of  complicity, 
and  Rafael  was  really  very  sorry.  I  had 


224  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  to  hold  beds  of  justice  —  literally  —  seated 
in  my  bed  and  surrounded  by  lying 
Samoans  seated  on  the  floor;  and  there 
were  many  picturesque  and  still  inexpli- 
cable passages.  It  is  hard  to  reach  the 
truth  in  these  islands. 

The  next  incident  overlapped  with  this. 
S.  and  Fanny  found  three  strange  horses 
in  the  paddock:  for  long  now  the  boys 
have  been  forbidden  to  leave  their  horses 
here  one  hour  because  our  grass  is  over- 
grazed. S.  came  up  with  the  news,  and  I 
saw  I  must  now  strike  a  blow.  "  To  the 
pound  with  the  lot,"  said  I.  He  proposed 
taking  the  three  himself,  but  I  thought 
that  too  dangerous  an  experiment,  said  I 
should  go  too,  and  hurried  into  my  boots 
so  as  to  show  decision  taken,  in  the  neces- 
sary interviews.  They  came  of  course  — 
the  interviews  —  and  I  explained  what  I 
was  going  to  do  at  huge  length,  and  stuck 
to  my  guns.  I  am  glad  to  say  the  natives, 
with  their  usual  (purely  speculative)  sense 
of  justice  highly  approved  the  step  after 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  22$ 

reflection.  Meanwhile  off  went  S.  and  I  1892 
with  the  three  corpora  delicti;  and  a  good 
job  I  went!  Once,  when  our  circus  began 
to  kick,  we  thought  all  was  up;  but  we  got 
them  down  all  sound  in  wind  and  limb. 
I  judged  I  was  much  fallen  off  from  my 
Elliott  forefathers,  who  managed  this  class 
of  business  with  neatness  and  despatch. 
Half-way  down  it  came  on  to  rain  trcpic 
style,  and  I  came  back  from  my  outing 
drenched  like  a  drowned  man  —  I  was 
literally  blinded  as  I  came  back  among 
these  sheets  of  water;  and  the  consequence 
was  I  was  laid  down  with  diarrhcta  and 
threat. nings  of  Samoa  colic  for  the  inside 
of  another  week. 

I  have  a  confession  to  make.  When  I 
was  sick  I  tried  to  get  to  work  to  finish 
that  Samoa  thing,  wouldn't  go;  and  at 
last,  in  the  colic  time,  I  slid  off  into  Dai'id 
Balfoiir,1  some  50  pages  of  which  are 
drafted,  and  like  me  well.  Really  I  think 

1  The  sequel  to  Kidnapped,  published  in  the   followed 
year  under  the  title  Catriona. 
VOL.  I.  —  \^ 


226  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  it  is  spirited;  and  there's  a  heroine  that 
(up  to  now)  seems  to  have  attractions  : 
absit  omen!  David,  on  the  whole,  seems 
excellent.  Allan  does  not  come  in  till  the 
tenth  chapter,  and  I  am  only  at  the  eighth, 
so  I  don't  know  if  I  can  find  him  again; 
but  David  is  on  his  feet,  and  doing  well, 
and  very  much  in  love,  and  mixed  up  with 
the  Lord  Advocate  and  the  (untitled)  Lord 
Lovat,  and  all  mannsr  of  great  folk.  And 
the  tale  interferes  with  my  eating  and 
sleeping.  The  join  is  bad;  I  have  not 
thought  to  strain  too  much  for  continuity; 
so  this  part  be  alive,  I  shall  be  content. 
But  there  's  no  doubt  David  seems  to  have 
changed  his  style,  de'il  ha'e  him!  And 
much  I  care,  if  the  tale  travel  ! 


Friday,  Feb.?? 

Two  incidents  to-day  which  I  must 
narrate.  After  lunch,  it  was  raining  piti- 
lessly; we  were  sitting  in  my  mother's 
bedroom,  and  I  was  reading  aloud  King- 
lake's  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  and  we 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  227 

had  just  been  all  seized  by  the  horses  ^9 
aligning  with  Lord  George  Paget,  when  a 
figure  appeared  on  the  verandah;  a  little, 
slim,  small  figure  of  a  lad,  with  blond  (*.  e. 
limed)  hair,  a  propitiatory  smile,  and  a 
nose  that  alone  of  all  his  features  grew 
pale  with  anxiety.  "I  come  here  stop," 
was  about  the  outside  of  his  English;  and 
I  began  at  once  to  guess  that  he  was  a 
runaway  labourer,1  and  that  the  bush-knife 
in  his  hand  was  stolen.  It  proved  he  had 
a  mate,  who  had  lacked  his  courage,  and 
was  hidden  clown  the  road ;  they  had  both 
made  up  their  minds  to  run  away,  and  had 
"come  here  stop."  I  could  not  turn  out 
the  poor  rogues,  one  of  whom  showed  me 
marks  on  his  back,  into  the  drenching 
forest;  I  could  not  reason  with  them,  for 
they  had  not  enough  English,  and  not  one 
of  our  boys  spoke  their  tongue;  so  I  bade 
them  feed  and  sleep  here  to-night,  and 

1  Most  of  the  work  on  the  plantations  in  Samoa  is 
done  by  "  black  boys,"  /.  e.  imported  labourers  from  other 
(Melanesia!))  islands. 


228  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1892   to-morrow  I  must  do  what  the  Lord  shall 
Feb. 

bid  me. 

Near  dinner  time,  I  was  told  that  a  friend 
of  Lafaele's  had  found  human  remains  in 
my  bush.  After  dinner,  a  figure  was  seen 
skulking  across  towards  the  waterfall, 
which  produced  from  the  verandah  a  shout, 
in  my  most  stentorian  tones :  "  O  at  le 
ingoa?"  literally  "Who  the  name?" 
which  serves  here  for  "What 's  your  busi- 
ness? "  as  well.  It  proved  to  be  Lafaele's 
friend;  I  bade  a  kitchen  boy,  Lauilo,  go 
with  him  to  see  the  spot,  for  though  it  had 
ceased  raining,  the  whole  island  ran  and 
dripped.  Lauilo  was  willing  enough,  but 
the  friend  of  the  archangel  demurred;  he 
had  too  much  business;  he  had  no  time. 
"All  right,"  I  said,  "you  too  much  fright- 
ened, I  go  along,"  which  of  course  pro- 
duced the  usual  shout  of  delight  from  all 
those  who  did  not  require  to  go.  I  got 
into  my  Saranac  snow  boots;  Lauilo  got  a 
cutlass;  Mary  Carter,  our  Sydney  maid, 
joined  the  party  for  a  lark,  and  off  we  set. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  229 

I  tell  you  our  guide  kept  us  moving;  for  1892 
the  dusk  fell  swift.  Our  woods  have  an 
infamous  reputation  at  the  best,  and  our 
errand  (to  say  the  least  of  it)  was  grisly. 
At  last  they  found  the  remains;  they  were 
old,  which  was  all  I  cared  to  be  sure  of; 
it  seemed  a  strangely  small  "pickle-banes" 
to  stand  for  a  big,  flourishing,  buck- 
islander,  and  their  situation  in  the  darken- 
ing and  dripping  bush  was  melancholy. 
All  at  once,  I  found  there  was  a  second 
skull,  with  a  bullet-hole  I  could  have  stuck 
my  two  thumbs  in  —  say  anybody  else's 
one  thumb.  My  Samoans  said  it  could  not 
be,  there  were  not  enough  bones ;  I  put 
the  two  pieces  of  skull  together,  and  at 
last  convinced  them.  Whereupon,  in  a 
flash,  they  found  the  not  unromantic  expla- 
nation. This  poor  brave  had  succeeded  in 
the  height  of  a  Samoan  warrior's  ambition; 
he  had  taken  a  head,  which  he  was  never 
destined  to  show  to  his  applauding  camp. 
Wounded  himself,  he  had  crept  here  into 
the  bush  to  die  with  his  useless  trophy  by 


230  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  his  side.  His  date  would  be  about  fifteen 
years  ago,  in  the  great  battle  between 
Laupepa  and  Talavou,  which  took  place  on 
My  Land,  Sir.  To-morrow  we  shall  bury 
the  bones  and  fire  a  salute  in  honour  of 
unfortunate  courage. 

Do  you  think  I  have  an  empty  life?  or 
that  a  man  jogging  to  his  club  has  so  much 
to  interest  and  amuse  him  ?  —  touch  and 
try  him  too,  but  that  goes  along  with  the 
others ;  no  pain,  no  pleasure,  is  the  iron 
law.  So  here  I  stop  again,  and  leave,  as 
I  left  yesterday,  my  political  business 
untouched.  And  lo !  here  comes  my  pupil, 
I  believe,  so  I  stop  in  time. 

March  2nd. 

Mar.  Since  I  last  wrote,  fifteen  chapters  of 
David  Balfour  have  been  drafted,  and  five 
tires  an  clair,  I  think  it  pretty  good; 
there 's  a  blooming  maiden  that  costs 
anxiety  —  she  is  as  virginal  as  billy;  but 
David  seems  there  and  alive,  and  the  Lord 
Advocate  is  good,  and  so  I  think  is  an 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  231 

episodic     appearance    of     the    Master    of    '892 

Mar. 

Lovat.  In  Chapter  xvn.  I  shall  get  David 
abroad  —  Alan  went  already  in  Chapter 
xii.  The  book  should  be  about  the  length 
of  Kidnapped;  this  early  part  of  it,  about 
D.  's  evidence  in  the  Appin  case,  is  more 
of  a  story  than  anything  in  Kidnapped,  but 
there  is  no  doubt  there  comes  a  break  in 
the  middle,  and  the  tale  is  practically  in 
two  divisions.  In  the  first  James  More 
and  the  M'Gregors,  and  Catriona,  only 
show;  in  the  second,  the  Appin  case  being 
disposed  of,  and  James  Stewart  hung,  they 
rule  the  roast  and  usurp  the  interest  — 
should  there  be  any  left.  Why  did  I  take 
up  Dai'id  Balfonr?  I  don't  know.  A 
sudden  passion. 

Monday,  I  went  down  in  the  rain  with  a 
colic  to  take  the  chair  at  a  public  meeting; 
dined  with  Haggard;  sailed  off  to  my 
meeting,  and  fought  with  wild  beasts  for 
three  anxious  hours.  All  was  lost  that 
any  sensible  man  cared  for,  but  the  meet- 
ing did  not  break  up  —  thanks  a  good  deal 


232  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  to  R.  L.  S.  —  and  the  man  who  opposed 
my  election,  and  with  whom  I  was  all  the 
time  wrangling,  proposed  the  vote  of  thanks 
to  me  with  a  certain  handsomeness;  I 
assure  you  I  had  earned  it.  ...  Haggard 
and  the  great  Abdul,  his  high-caste  Indian 
servant,  imported  by  my  wife,  were  sitting 
up  for  me  with  supper,  and  I  suppose  it 
was  twelve  before  I  got  to  bed.  Tuesday 
raining,  my  mother  rode  down,  and  we 
went  to  the  Consulate  to  sign  a  Factory 
and  Commission.  Thence,  I  to  the  lawyers, 
to  the  printing  office,  and  to  the  Mission. 
It  was  dinner  time  when  I  returned  home. 

This  morning,  our  cook-boy  having  sud- 
denly left  —  injured  feelings  —  the  arch- 
angel was  to  cook  breakfast.  I  found  him 
lighting  the  fire  before  dawn;  his  eyes 
blazed,  he  had  no  word  of  any  language 
left  to  use,  and  I  saw  in  him  (to  my 
wonder)  the  strongest  workings  of  gratified 
ambition.  Napoleon  was  no  more  pleased 
to  sign  his  first  treaty  with  Austria  than 
was  Lafaele  to  cook  that  breakfast.  All 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  233 

morning,  when   I   had  hoped  to  be  at  this    l892 
letter,  I   slept   like  one  drugged,   and  you 
must  take  this  (which  is  all  I  can  give  you) 
for  what  it  is  worth  — 

D.  B. 

Memoirs  of  his  Adventures  at  Home  and 
Abroad.  The  Second  Part;  wherein  are  set 
forth  the  misfortunes  in  which  he  was  in- 
volved upon  t/tc  Appin  Murder ;  his  troubles 
vvith  Lord  Advocate  Prcstongrange  ;  captivity 
on  the  Bass  Rock ;  journey  into  France  and 
Holland ;  and  singular  relations  witli  James 
More  Drummond  or  J\Iacgregor,  a  son  of  the 
notorious  Rob  Roy. 

Chapters  i.  A  Beggar  on  Horseback, 
ii.  The  Highland  Writer,  in.  I  go  to 
Pilrig.  iv.  Lord  Advocate  Prestongrange. 
v.  Butter  and  Thunder,  vi.  I  make  a 
fault  in  honour,  vir.  The  Bravo.  vin. 
The  Heather  on  Fire.  ix.  I  begin  to  be 
haunted  with  a  red-headed  man.  x.  The 
Wood  by  Silver-mills,  xi.  On  the  march 
again  with  Alan.  xn.  Gillane  Sands. 


234  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1892  xiii.  The  Bass  Rock.  xiv.  Black  Andie's 
Tale  of  Tod  Lapraik.  xv.  I  go  to  Inverary. 
That  is  it,  as  far  as  drafted.  Chapters 
iv.  v.  vii.  ix.  and  xiv.  I  am  specially 
pleased  with ;  the  last  being  an  episodical 
bogie  story  about  the  Bass  Rock  told  there 
by  the  Keeper. 


XVII 

March  gtA. 

MY  DEAR  S.  C,  — Take  it  not  amiss  if  1892 
this  is  a  wretched  letter.  I  am  eaten  up 
with  business.  Every  day  this  week  I 
have  had  some  business  impediment  - —  I 
am  even  now  waiting  a  deputation  of  chiefs 
about  the  road  —  and  my  precious  morning 
was  shattered  by  a  polite  old  scourge  of  a 
faipulc  —  parliament  man  —  come  begging. 
All  the  time  David  Balfonr  is  skelping 
along.  I  began  it  the  i3th  of  last  month; 
I  have  now  12  chapters,  79  pages  ready  for 
press,  or  within  an  ace,  and  by  the  time 
the  month  is  out,  one-half  should  be  com- 
pleted, and  I  '11  be  back  at  drafting  the 
second  half.  What  makes  me  sick  is  to 
think  of  Scott  turning  out  Guy  Mannering 
in  three  weeks!  What  a  pull  of  work: 
heavens,  what  thews  and  sinews!  And 


236  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  here  am  I,  my  head  spinning  from  having 
only  re-written  seven  not  very  difficult 
pages  —  and  not  very  good  when  done. 
Weakling  generation.  It  makes  me  sick 
of  myself,  to  make  such  a  fash  and  bobbery 
over  a  rotten  end  of  an  old  nursery  yarn, 
not  worth  spitting  on  when  done.  Still, 
there  is  no  doubt  I  turn  out  my  work  more 
easily  than  of  yore;  and  I  suppose  I  should 
be  singly  glad  of  that.  And  if  I  got  my 
book  done  in  six  weeks,  seeing  it  will  be 
about  half  as  long  as  a  Scott,  and  I  have  to 
write  everything  twice,  it  would  be  about 
the  same  rate  of  industry.  It  is  my  fair 
intention  to  be  done  with  it  in  three 
months,  which  would  make  me  about  one- 
half  the  man  Sir  Walter  was  for  application 
and  driving  the  dull  pen.  Of  the  merit 
we  shall  not  talk;  but  I  don't  think  Davie 
is  witJiont  merit. 

March  \2th. 

And  I  have  this  day  triumphantly  finished 
15  chapters,  100  pages  —  being  exactly 
one-half  (as  near  as  anybody  can  guess)  of 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  237 

David  Balfour;  the  book  to  be  about  a  l892 
fifth  as  long  again  (altogether)  as  Treasure 
Island :  could  I  but  do  the  second  half  in 
another  month!  But  I  can't,  I  fear;  I 
shall  have  some  belated  material  arriving 
by  next  mail,  and  must  go  again  at  the 
History.  Is  it  not  characteristic  of  my 
broken  tenacity  of  mind,  that  I  should 
have  left  Davie  Balfour  some  five  years  in 
the  British  Linen  Company's  Office,  and 
then  follow  him  at  last  with  such  vivacity? 
But  I  leave  you  again;  the  last  (iSth) 
chapter  ought  to  be  re-wrote,  or  part  of  it, 
and  I  want  the  half  completed  in  the 
month,  and  the  month  is  out  by  midnight; 
though,  to  be  sure,  last  month  was  February, 
and  I  might  take  grace.  These  notes  are 
only  to  show  I  hold  you  in  mind,  though  I 
know  they  can  have  no  interest  for  man  or 
God  or  animal. 

I  should  have  told  you  about  the  Club. 
We  have  been  asked  to  try  and  start  a  sort 
of  weekly  ball  for  the  half-castes  and 
natives,  ourselves  to  be  the  only  whites; 


238  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  and  we  consented;  from  a  very  heavy  sense 
of  duty,  and  with  not  much  hope.  Two 
nights  ago  we  had  twenty  people  up, 
received  them  in  the  front  verandah,  enter- 
tained them  on  cake  and  lemonade,  and  I 
made  a  speech  —  embodying  our  proposals, 
or  conditions,  if  you  like  —  for  I  suppose 
thirty  minutes.  No  joke  to  speak  to  such 
an  audience,  but  it  is  believed  I  was 
thoroughly  intelligible.  I  took  the  plan 
of  saying  everything  at  least  twice  in  a 
different  form  of  words,  so  that  if  the  one 
escaped  my  hearers,  the  other  might  be 
seized.  One  white  man  came  with  his 
wife,  and  was  kept  rigorously  on  the  front 
verandah  below !  You  see  what  a  sea  of 
troubles  this  is  like  to  prove;  but  it  is  the 
only  chance  —  and  when  it  blows  up,  it 
must  blow  up !  I  have  no  more  hope  in 
anything  than  a  dead  frog;  I  go  into  every- 
thing with  a  composed  despair,  and  don't 
mind  —  just  as  I  always  go  to  sea  with  the 
conviction  I  am  to  be  drowned,  and  like  it 
before  all  other  pleasures.  But  you  should 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  239 

have  seen  the  return  voyage,  when  nine-   l892 

Mar. 

teen  horses  had  to  be  found  in  the  dark, 
and  nineteen  bridles,  all  in  a  drench  of 
rain,  and  the  club,  just  constituted  as  such, 
sailed  away  in  the  wet,  under  a  cloudy 
moon  like  a  bad  shilling,  and  to  descend  a 
road  through  the  forest  that  was  at  that 
moment  the  image  of  a  respectable  moun- 
tain brook.  My  wife,  who  is  president 
with  power  to  expel,  had  to  begin  her 
functions.  .  .  . 

25/7*  March 

Heaven  knows  what  day  it  is,  but  I  am 
ashamed,  all  the  more  as  your  letter  from 
Bournemouth  of  all  places  —  poor  old 
Bournemouth  !  —  is  to  hand,  and  contains 
a  statement  of  pleasure  in  my  letters  which 
I  wish  I  could  have  rewarded  with  a  long 
one.  What  has  gone  on  ?  A  vast  of 
affairs,  of  a  mingled,  strenuous,  incon- 
clusive, desultory  character;  much  waste 
of  time,  much  riding  to  and  fro,  and  little 
transacted  or  at  least  peracted. 

Let  me  give  you  a  review  of  the  present 


240  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892   state  of  our  live  stock.  —  Six  boys  in  the 

Mar. 

bush;  six  souls  about  the  house.  Talolo, 
the  cook,  returns  again  to-day,  after  an 
absence  which  has  cost  me  about  twelve 
hours  of  riding,  and  I  suppose  eight  hours' 
solemn  sitting  in  council.  "I  am  sorry 
indeed  for  the  Chief  Justice  of  Samoa,"  I 
said ;  "  it  is  more  than  I  am  fit  for  to  be 
Chief  Justice  of  Vailima."  —  Lauilo  is 
steward.  Both  these  are  excellent  ser- 
vants ;  we  gave  a  luncheon  party  when  we 
buried  the  Samoan  bones,  and  I  assure  you 
all  was  in  good  style,  yet  we  never  inter- 
fered. The  food  was  good,  the  wine  and 
dishes  went  round  as  by  mechanism.  — 
Steward's  assistant  and  washman.  Arrick, 
a  New  Hebridee  black  boy,  hired  from  the 
German  firm;  not  so  ugly  as  most,  but  not 
pretty  neither;  not  so  dull  as  his  sort  are, 
but  not  quite  a  Crichton.  When  he  came 
first,  he  ate  so  much  of  our  good  food  that 
he  got  a  prominent  belly.  Kitchen  assis- 
tant, Tomas  (Thomas  in  English),  a  Fiji 
man,  very  tall  and  handsome,  moving  like 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  24! 

a  marionette  with  sudden  bounds,  and  roll-  l892 
ing  his  eyes  with  sudden  effort.  — Washer- 
woman and  precentor,  Helen,  Tomas's 
wife.  This  is  our  weak  point;  we  are 
ashamed  of  Helen ;  the  cook-house  blushes 
for  her;  they  murmur  there  at  her  presence. 
She  seems  all  right;  she  is  not  a  bad- 
looking,  strapping  wench,  seems  chaste,  is 
industrious,  has  an  excellent  taste  in  hymns 
—  you  should  have  heard  her  read  one 
aloud  the  other  day,  she  marked  the 
rhythm  with  so  much  gloating,  dissenter 
sentiment.  What  is  wrong,  then  ?  says 
you.  Low  in  your  ear  —  and  don't  let  the 
papers  get  hold  of  it  —  she  is  of  no  family. 
None,  they  say  ;  literally  a  common  woman. 
Of  course,  we  have  out-islanders,  who  may 
be  villeins;  but  we  give  them  the  benefit 
of  the  doubt,  which  is  impossible  with 
Helen  of  Vailima;  our  blot,  out  pitted 
speck.  The  pitted  speck  I  have  said  is 
our  precentor.  It  is  always  a  woman  who 
starts  Samoan  song;  the  men  who  sing 
second  do  not  enter  for  a  bar  or  two. 

VOL.  I. —  1 6 


242  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  poor,  dear  Faauma,  the  unchaste,  the 
extruded  Eve  of  our  Paradise,  knew  only 
two  hymns;  but  Helen  seems  to  know  the 
whole  repertory,  and  the  morning  prayers 
go  far  more  lively  in  consequence.  — 
Lafaele,  provost  of  the  cattle.  The  cattle 
are  Jack,  my  horse,  quite  converted,  my 
wife  rides  him  now,  and  he  is  as  steady  as 
a  doctor's  cob;  Tifaga  Jack,  a  circus  horse, 
my  mother's  piebald,  bought  from  a  pass- 
ing circus;  Belle's  mare,  now  in  childbed 
or  next  door,  confound  the  slut !  Musu  — 
amusingly  translated  the  other  day  "don't 
want  to,"  literally  cross,  but  always  in  the 
sense  of  stubbornness  and  resistance  —  my 
wife's  little  dark-brown  mare,  with  a  white 
star  on  her  forehead,  whom  I  have  been 
riding  of  late  to  steady  her  —  she  has  no 
vices,  but  is  unused,  skittish  and  uneasy, 
and  wants  a  lot  of  attention  and  humour- 
ing; lastly  (of  saddle  horses)  Luna  —  not 
the  Latin  moon,  the  Hawaiian  overseer,  but 
it  's  pronounced  the  same  —  a  pretty  little 
mare  too,  but  scarce  at  all  broken,  a  bad 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  243 

bucker,  and  has  to  be  ridden  with  a  stock-  l892 
whip  and  be  brought  back  with  her  rump 
criss-crossed  like  a  clan  tartan;  the  two 
cart  horses,  now  only  used  with  pack- 
saddles;  two  cows,  one  in  the  straw  (I 
trust)  to-morrow,  a  third  cow,  the  Jersey 
—  whose  milk  and  temper  are  alike  sub- 
jects of  admiration  —  she  gives  good  exer- 
cise to  the  farming  saunterer,  and  refreshes 
him  on  his  return  with  cream ;  two  calves, 
a  bull,  and  a  cow;  God  knows  how  many 
ducks  and  chickens,  and  for  a  wager  not 
even  God  knows  how  many  cats;  twelve 
horses,  seven  horses,  five  kine:  is  not  this 
Babylon  the  Great  which  I  have  builded? 
Call  it  Subpriorsford. 

Two  nights  ago  the  club  had  its  first 
meeting;  only  twelve  were  present,  but  it 
went  very  well.  I  was  not  there,  I  had 
ridden  down  the  night  before  after  dinner 
on  my  endless  business,  took  a  cup  of  tea 
in  the  Mission  like  an  ass,  then  took  a  cup 
of  coffee  like  a  fool  at  Haggard's,  then 
fell  into  a  discussion  with  the  American 


244  VAIL1MA   LETTERS. 

l892   Consul  ...    I  went  to  bed  at  Haggard's, 

Mar. 

came  suddenly  broad  awake,  and  lay  sleep- 
less the  live  night.  It  fell  chill,  I  had 
only  a  sheet,  and  had  to  make  a  light  and 
range  the  house  for  a  cover —  I  found  one  in 
the  hall,  a  mackintosh.  So  back  to  my 
sleepless  bed,  and  to  lie  there  till  dawn. 
In  the  morning  I  had  a  longish  ride  to  take 
in  a  day  of  a  blinding,  staggering  sun,  and 
got  home  by  eleven,  our  luncheon  hour, 
with  my  head  rather  swimmy;  the  only 
time  I  have  feared  the  sun  since  I  was  in 
Samoa.  However,  I  got  no  harm,  but  did 
not  go  to  the  club,  lay  off,  lazied,  played 
the  pipe,  and  read  a  novel  by  James  Payn 
—  sometimes  quite  interesting,  and  in  one 
place  really  very  funny  with  the  quaint 
humour  of  the  man.  Much  interested  the 
other  day.  As  I  rode  past  a  house,  I  saw 
where  a  Samoan  had  written  a  word  on 
a  board,  and  there  was  an  y,  perfectly 
formed,  but  upside  down.  You  never  saw 
such  a  thing  in  Europe;  but  it  is  as 
common  as  dirt  in  Polynesia.  Men's 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  245 

names  are  tattooed  on  the  forearm ;    it   is    1892 
common    to    find    a    subverted    letter    tat- 
tooed there.      Here  is  a  tempting  problem 
for  psychologists. 

I  am  now  on  terms  again  with  the 
German  Consulate,  I  know  not  for  how 
long;  not,  of  course,  with  the  President, 
which  I  find  a  relief;  still,  with  the  Chief 
Justice  and  the  English  Consul.  For 
Haggard,  I  have  a  genuine  affection ;  he  is 
a  lovable  man. 

Wearyful  man!  "Here  is  the  yarn  of 
Loudon  Dodd,  not  as  he  told  it,  but  as  it 
was  aftemvards  written."1  These  word 
were  left  out  by  some  carelessness,  and  I 
think  I  have  been  thrice  tackled  about 
them.  Grave  them  in  your  mind  and  wear 
them  on  your  forehead. 

The  Lang  story  will  have  very  little 
about  the  treasure;  The  Master'2'  will 

1  In  answer  to  the  obvious  remark  that  the  length  and 
style  of  the  Wrecker,  then  running  in  Scribner's  Magazine, 
were  out  of  keeping  with  what  professed  at  the  outset  to 
be  a  spoken  yarn. 

2  Of  Ballantrae. 


246  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  appear;  and  it  is  to  a  great  extent  a  tale  of 
Prince  Charlie  after  the  '45,  and  a  love 
story  forbye :  the  hero  is  a  melancholy 
exile,  and  marries  a  young  woman  who 
interests  the  prince,  and  there  is  the  devil 
to  pay.  I  think  the  Master  kills  him  in  a 
duel,  but  don't  know  yet,  not  having  yet 
seen  my  second  heroine.  No  —  the  Master 
does  n't  kill  him,  they  fight,  he  is  wounded, 
and  the  Master  plays  deus  ex  machina.  I 
think  just  now  of  calling  it  The  Tail  of  the 
Race;  no  —  heavens!  I  never  saw  till  this 
moment  —  but  of  course  nobody  but  myself 
would  ever  understand  Mill-Race,  they 
would  think  of  a  quarter- mile.  So  —  I  am 
nameless  again.  My  melancholy  young 
man  is  to  be  quite  a  Romeo.  Yes,  I  '11 
name  the  book  from  him:  Dyce  of  Ythan 
—  pronounce  Eethan. 

Dyce  of   Ythan 

by  R.  L.  S. 

Oh,  Shovel  —  Shovel  waits  his  turn,  he 
and  his  ancestors.  I  would  have  tackled 
him  before,  but  my  State  Trials  have 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  247 

never  come.     So  that    I    have   now   quite    l892 

.  Mar. 

planned :  — 

Dyce  of  Ythan.      (Historical,  1750.) 

Sophia  Scarlet.     (To-day.) 

The  Shovels  of  Newton  French.      (His- 
torical, 1650  to  1830.) 
And  quite  planned  and  part  written  :  — 

The  Pearl   Fisher.      (To-day.)     (With 
Lloyd,  a  machine.)1 

David  Balfour.      (Historical,  1751.) 
And,  by  a  strange  exception  for  R.    L.    S., 
all  in  the  third  person  except  D.  B. 

I  don't  know  what  day  this  is  now  (the 
29th),  but  I  have  finished  my  two  chapters, 
ninth  and  tenth,  of  Samoa  in  time  for  the 
mail,  and  feel  almost  at  peace.  The  tenth 
was  the  hurricane,  a  difficult  problem ;  it 
so  tempted  one  to  be  literary;  and  I  feel 
sure  the  less  of  that  there  is  in  my  little 
handbook,  the  more  chance  it  has  of  some 
utility.  Then  the  events  are  compli- 
cated, seven  ships  to  tell  of,  and  sometimes 
three  of  them  together;  Oh,  it  was  quite  a 

1  Afterwards  changed  into  The  Ebb  Tide. 


248  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  job.  But  I  think  I  have  my  facts  pretty 
correct,  and  for  once,  in  my  sickening  yarn, 
they  are  handsome  facts:  creditable  to  all 
concerned;  not  to  be  written  of — and  I 
should  think,  scarce  to  be  read  —  without 
a  thrill.  I  doubt  I  have  got  no  hurricane 
into  it,  the  intricacies  of  the  yarn  absorb- 
ing me  too  much.  But  there  —  it  's  done 
somehow,  and  time  presses  hard  on  my 
heels.  The  book,  with  my  best  expedition, 
may  come  just  too  late  to  be  of  use.  In 
which  case  I  shall  have  made  a  handsome 
present  of  some  months  of  my  life  for 
nothing  and  to  nobody.  Well,  through 
Her  the  most  ancient  heavens  are  fresh 
and  strong.1 

30^. 

After  I  had  written  you,  I  re-read  my 
hurricane,  which  is  very  poor;  the  life  of 
the  journalist  is  hard,  another  couple  of 
writings  and  I  could  make  a  good  thing,  I 
believe,  and  it  must  go  as  it  is!  But,  of 
course,  this  book  is  not  written  for  honour 

1  Wordsworth,  a  shade  misquoted. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  249 

and  glory,  and  the  few  who  will  read  it  l892 
may  not  know  the  difference.  Very  little 
time.  I  go  down  with  the  mail  shortly, 
dine  at  the  Chinese  restaurant,  and  go  to 
the  club  to  dance  with  islandresses.  Think 
of  my  going  out  once  a  week  to  dance. 

Politics  are  on  the  full  job  again,  and 
we  don't  know  what  is  to  come  next.  I 
think  the  whole  treaty  raj  seems  quite 
played  out !  They  have  taken  to  bribing 
the  faipnle  men  (parliament  men)  to  stay 
in  Mulinuu,  we  hear;  but  I  have  not  yet 
sifted  the  rumour.  I  must  say  I  shall  be 
scarce  surprised  if  it  prove  true;  these 
rumours  have  the  knack  of  being  right. — 
Our  weather  this  last  month  has  been 
tremendously  hot,  not  by  the  thermometer, 
which  sticks  at  86°,  but  to  the  sensation: 
no  rain,  no  wind,  and  this  the  storm 
month.  It  looks  ominous,  and  is  certainly 
disagreeable. 

No  time  to  finish, 

Yours  ever, 

R.   L.   S. 


XVIII 

May  1st,  1892. 

1892  MY  DEAR  COLVIN,  —  As  I  rode  down 
last  night  about  six,  I  saw  a  sight  I  must 
try  to  tell  you  of.  In  front  of  me,  right 
over  the  top  of  the  forest  into  which  I  was 
descending  was  a  vast  cloud.  The  front  of 
it  accurately  represented  the  somewhat 
rugged,  long-nosed,  and  beetle-browed  pro- 
file of  a  man,  crowned  by  a  huge  Kalmuck 
cap;  the  flesh  part  was  of  a  heavenly  pink, 
the  cap,  the  moustache,  the  eyebrows  were 
of  a  bluish  gray;  to  see  this  with  its 
childish  exactitude  of  design  and  colour, 
and  hugeness  of  scale  —  it  covered  at  least 
25°  —  held  me  spellbound.  As  I  continued 
to  gaze,  the  expression  began  to  change; 
he  had  the  exact  air  of  closing  one  eye, 
dropping  his  jaw,  and  drawing  down  his 
nose;  had  the  thing  not  been  so  imposing, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  251 

I  could  have  smiled;  and  then  almost  in  a  1892 
moment,  a  shoulder  of  leaden-coloured  bank 
drove  in  front  and  blotted  it.  My  atten- 
tion spread  to  the  rest  of  the  cloud,  and  it 
was  a  thing  to  worship.  It  rose  from  the 
horizon,  and  its  top  was  within  thirty 
degrees  of  the  zenith;  the  lower  parts  were 
like  a  glacier  in  shadow,  varying  from  dark 
indigo  to  a  clouded  white  in  exquisite 
gradations.  The  sky  behind,  so  far  as  I 
could  see,  was  all  of  a  blue  already  enriched 
and  darkened  by  the  night,  for  the  hill  had 
what  lingered  of  the  sunset.  But  the  top 
of  my  Titanic  cloud  flamed  in  broad  sun- 
light, with  the  most  excellent  softness  and 
brightness  of  fire  and  jewels,  enlightening 
all  the  world.  It  must  have  been  far  higher 
than  Mount  Everest,  and  its  glory,  as  I 
gazed  up  at  it  out  of  the  night,  was  beyond 
wonder.  Close  by  rode  the  little  crescent 
moon ;  and  right  over  its  western  horn,  a 
great  planet  of  about  equal  lustre  with 
itself.  The  dark  woods  below  were  shrill 
with  that  noisy  business  of  the  birds' 


252  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   evening  worship.     When  I  returned,  after 

May 

eight,  the  moon  was  near  down ;  she 
seemed  little  brighter  than  before,  but  now 
that  the  cloud  no  longer  played  its  part  of 
a  nocturnal  sun,  we  could  see  that  sight, 
so  rare  with  us  at  home  that  it  was  counted 
a  portent,  so  customary  in  the  tropics,  of 
the  dark  sphere  with  its  little  gilt  band 
upon  the  belly.  The  planet  had  been 
setting  faster,  and  was  now  below  the 
crescent.  They  were  still  of  an  equal 
brightness. 

I  could  not  resist  trying  to  reproduce 
this  in  words,  as  a  specimen  of  these 
incredibly  beautiful  and  imposing  meteors 
of  the  tropic  sky  that  make  so  much  of  my 
pleasure  here;  though  a  ship's  deck  is 
the  place  to  enjoy  them.  Oh,  what  awful 
scenery,  from  a  ship's  deck,  in  the  tropics ! 
People  talk  about  the  Alps,  but  the  clouds 
of  the  trade  wind  are  alone  for  sublimity. 

Now  to  try  and  tell  you  what  has  been 
happening.  The  state  of  these  islands, 
and  of  Mataafa  and  Laupepa  (Malietoa's 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  253 

ambd)  had  been  much  on  my  mind.  I  went  1892 
to  the  priests  and  sent  a  message  to 
Mataafa,  at  a  time  when  it  was  supposed 
he  was  about  to  act.  He  did  not  act, 
delaying  in  true  native  style,  and  I  deter- 
mined I  should  go  to  visit  him.  I  have 
been  very  good  not  to  go  sooner;  to  live 
within  a  few  miles  of  a  rebel  camp,  to  be  a 
novelist,  to  have  all  my  family  forcing  me 
to  go,  and  to  refrain  all  these  months, 
counts  for  virtue.  But  hearing  that  several 
people  had  gone  and  the  government  done 
nothing  to  punish  them,  and  having  an 
errand  there  which  was  enough  to  justify 
myself  in  my  own  eyes,  I  half  determined 
to  go,  and  spoke  of  it  with  the  half-caste 
priest.  And  here  (confound  it)  up  came 
Laupepa  and  his  guards  to  call  on  me;  we 
kept  him  to  lunch,  and  the  old  gentleman 
was  very  good  and  amiable.  He  asked  me 
why  I  had  not  been  to  see  him  ?  I  reminded 
him  a  law  had  been  made,  and  told  him  I 
was  not  a  small  boy  to  go  and  ask  leave  of 
the  consuls,  and  perhaps  be  refused.  He 


254  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  told  me  to  pay  no  attention  to  the  law  but 
come  when  I  would,  and  begged  me  to 
name  a  day  to  lunch.  The  next  day  (I 
think  it  was)  early  in  the  morning,  a  man 
appeared;  he  had  metal  buttons  like  a 
policeman  —  but  he  was  none  of  our  Apia 
force;  he  was  a  rebel  policeman,  and  had 
been  all  night  coming  round  inland  through 
the  forest  from  Malie.  He  brought  a  letter 
addressed 

/  laua  susnga          To  his  Excellency 
Misi  Mea.  Mr.  Thingumbob. 

(So  as  not  to  compromise  me.)  I  can  read 
Samoan  now,  though  not  speak  it.  It  was 
to  ask  me  for  last  Wednesday.  My  diffi- 
culty was  great;  I  had  no  man  here  who 
was  fit,  or  who  would  have  cared,  to  write 
for  me;  and  I  had  to  postpone  the  visit. 
So  I  gave  up  half-a-day  with  a  groan,  went 
down  to  the  priests,  arranged  for  Monday 
week  to  go  to  Malie,  and  named  Thursday 
as  my  day  to  lunch  with  Laupepa.  I  was 
sharply  ill  on  Wednesday,  mail  day.  But 
on  Thursday  I  had  to  trail  down  and  go 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  255 

through  the  dreary  business  of  a  feast,  in    1892 
the  King's  wretched  shanty,   full  in  view   May 
of  the  President's  fine  new  house;  it  made 
my  heart  burn. 

This  gave  me  my  chance  to  arrange  a 
private  interview  with  the  King,  and  I 
decided  to  ask  Mr.  Whitmee,  one  of  our 
missionaries,  to  be  my  interpreter.  On 
Friday,  being  too  much  exhausted  to  go 
down,  I  begged  him  to  come  up.  He  did, 
I  told  him  the  heads  of  what  I  meant  to 
say;  and  he  not  only  consented,  but  said, 
if  we  got  on  well  with  the  King,  he  would 
even  proceed  with  me  to  Malie.  Yester- 
day, in  consequence,  T  rode  down  to  W.  's 
house  by  eight  in  the  morning;  waited  till 
ten  ;  received  a  message  that  the  King  was 
stopped  by  a  meeting  with  the  President 
and  faipule ;  made  another  engagement  for 
seven  at  night;  came  up;  went  down; 
waited  till  eight,  and  came  away  again, 
brcdouillc,  and  a  dead  body.  The  poor, 
weak,  enslaved  King  had  not  dared  to 
come  to  me  even  in  secret.  Now  I  have 


256  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   to-day  for  a  rest,  and  to-morrow  to  Malie. 

May 

Shall  I  be  suffered  to  embark?  It  is 
very  doutbful ;  they  are  on  the  trail.  On 
Thursday,  a  policeman  came  up  to  me  and 
began  that  a  boy  had  been  to  see  him,  and 
said  I  was  going  to  see  Mataafa.  —  "  And 
what  did  you  say ?  "  said  I.  —  "I  told  him 
I  did  not  know  about  where  you  were 
going,"  said  he.  —  "A  very  good  answer," 
said  I,  and  turned  away.  It  is  lashing  rain 
to-day,  but  to-morrow,  rain  or  shine,  I 
must  at  least  make  the  attempt;  and  I  am 
so  weary,  and  the  weather  looks  so  bad.  I 
could  half  wish  they  would  arrest  me  on 
the  beach.  All  this  bother  and  pother  to 
try  and  bring  a  little  chance  of  peace;  all 
this  opposition  and  obstinacy  in  people 
who  remain  here  by  the  mere  forbearance 
of  Mataafa,  who  has  a  great  force  within 
six  miles  of  their  government  buildings, 
which  are  indeed  only  the  residences  of 
white  officials.  To  understand  how  I  have 
been  occupied,  you  must  know  that  "  Misi 
Mea"  has  had  another  letter,  and  this  time 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  257 

had  to  answer  himself;  think  of  doing  so  lS92 
in  a  language  so  obscure  to  me,  with  the 
aid  of  a  Bible,  concordance  and  dictionary ! 
What  a  wonderful  Baboo  compilation  it 
must  have  been  !  I  positively  expected  to 
hear  news  of  its  arrival  in  Malie  by  the 
sound  of  laughter.  I  doubt  if  you  will  be 
able  to  read  this  scrawl,  but  I  have  managed 
to  scramble  somehow  up  to  date;  and  to- 
morrow, one  way  or  another,  should  be 
interesting.  But  as  for  me,  I  am  a  wreck, 
as  I  have  no  doubt  style  and  handwriting 
both  testify. 

8  P.  M. 

Wonderfully  rested;  feel  almost  fit  for 
to-morrow's  deary  excursion  —  not  that  it 
will  be  dreary  if  the  weather  favour,  but 
otherwise  it  will  be  death;  and  a  native 
feast,  and  I  fear  I  am  in  for  a  big  one,  is  a 
thing  I  loathe.  I  wonder  if  you  can  really 
conceive  me  as  a  politician  in  this  extra- 
mundane  sphere — presiding  at  public 
meetings,  drafting  proclamations,  receiv- 
ing mis-addressed  letters  that  have  been 

VOL.  I.  —  17 


258  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  carried  all  night  through  tropical  forests? 
It  seems  strange  indeed,  and  to  you  who 
know  me  really,  must  seem  stranger.  I 
do  not  say  I  am  free  from  the  itch  of  med- 
dling, but  God  knows  this  is  no  tempting 
job  to  meddle  in;  I  smile  at  picturesque 
circumstances  like  the  Misi  Mea  (Monsieur 
Chose  is  the  exact  equivalent)  correspon- 
dence, but  the  business  as  a  whole  bores 
and  revolts  me.  I  do  nothing  and  say 
nothing;  and  then  a  day  comes,  and  I  say 
"this  can  go  on  no  longer." 

9.30  P.  M. 

The  wretched  native  dilatoriness  finds 
me  out.  News  has  just  come  that  we  must 
embark  at  six  to-morrow;  I  have  divided 
the  night  in  watches,  and  hope  to  be  called 
to-morrow  at  four  and  get  under  way  by 
five.  It  is  a  great  chance  if  it  be  managed ; 
but  I  have  given  directions  and  lent  my 
own  clock  to  the  boys,  and  hope  the  best. 
If  I  get  called  at  four  we  shall  do  it  nicely. 
Good-night ;  I  must  turn  in. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  259 

May  -yd. 

Well,  we  did  get  off  by  about  5.30,  or,  '892 
by 'r  lady!  quarter  of  six:  myself  on 
Donald,  the  huge  gray  cart-horse,  with  a 
ship-bag  across  my  saddle  bow,  Fanny  on 
Musu  and  Belle  on  Jack.  We  were  all 
feeling  pretty  tired  and  sick,  and  I  looked 
like  heaven  knows  what  on  the  cart  horse : 
"death  on  the  pale  horse,"  I  suggested  — 
and  young  Hunt  the  missionary,  who  met 
me  to-day  on  the  same  charger,  squinted 
up  at  my  perch  and  remarked,  "There  's  a 
sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft." 
The  boat  was  ready  and  we  set  off  down 
the  lagoon  about  seven,  four  oars,  and 
Talolo,  my  cook,  steering. 

May  gth,  (Monday  anyway). 

And  see  what  good  resolutions  came  to! 
Here  is  all  this  time  past,  and  no  speed 
made.  Well,  we  got  to  Malie  and  were 
received  with  the  most  friendly  considera- 
tion by  the  rebel  chief.  Belle  and  Fanny 
were  obviously  thought  to  be  my  two 
wives;  they  were  served  their  kava  to- 


26O  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

*&92  gether,  as  were  Mataafa  and  myself.  Talolo 
utterly  broke  down  as  interpreter;  long 
speeches  were  made  to  me  by  Mataafa  and 
his  orators,  of  which  he  could  make  noth- 
ing but  they  were  "very  much  surprised  " 
—  his  way  of  pronouncing  obliged  —  and 
as  he  could  understand  nothing  that  fell 
from  me  except  the  same  form  of  words, 
the  dialogue  languished  and  all  business 
had  to  be  laid  aside.  We  had  kava,1  and 

1  "  Kava,  properly  Ava,  is  a  drink  more  or  less  intoxi- 
cating, made  from  the  root  of  the  Piper  Afethysticum,  a 
Pepper  plant.  The  root  is  grated  :  formerly  it  was  chewed 
by  fair  damsels.  The  root  thus  broken  up  is  rubbed  about 
in  a  great  pail,  with  water  slowly  added.  A  strainer  of 
bark  cloth  is  plunged  into  it  at  times,  and  wrung  out  so  as 
to  carry  away  the  small  fragments  of  root.  The  drink  is 
made  and  used  in  ceremony.  Every  detail  is  regulated  by 
rules,  and  the  manner  of  the  mixture  of  the  water,  the 
straining,  the  handling  of  the  cup,  the  drinking  out  of  it 
and  returning,  should  all  be  done  according  to  a  well- 
established  manner  and  in  certain  cadences."  I  have  ven- 
tured to  borrow  this  explanation  from  Mr.  Lafarge's  notes 
to  his  catalogue  of  South  Sea  Drawings.  It  may  serve  to 
make  clearer  several  passages  in  later  letters  of  the  present 
collection  (e.  £.  pp.  195,  210,  315).  Readers  of  the  late 
Lord  Pembroke's  South  Sea  Bubbles  will  remember  the 
account  of  this  beverage  and  its  preparation  in  chap.  vin. 
of  that  volume. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  26l 

then  a  dish  of  arrowroot ;  one  end  of  the  1892 
house  was  screened  off  for  us  with  a  fine 
tapa,  and  we  lay  and  slept,  the  three  of  us, 
heads  and  tails,  upon  the  mats  till  dinner. 
After  dinner  his  illegitimate  majesty  and 
myself  had  a  walk,  and  talked  as  well  as 
my  twopenny  Samoan  would  admit.  Then 
there  was  a  dance  to  amuse  the  ladies 
before  the  house,  and  we  came  back  by 
moonlight,  the  sky  piled  full  of  high  faint 
clouds  that  long  preserved  some  of  the 
radiance  of  the  sunset.  The  lagoon  was 
very  shallow;  we  continually  struck,  for 
the  moon  was  young  and  the  light  baffling; 
and  for  a  long  time  we  were  accompanied 
by,  and  passed  and  re-passed,  a  huge 
whale-boat  from  Savaii,  pulling  perhaps 
twelve  oars,  and  containing  perhaps  forty 
people  who  sang  in  time  as  they  went.  So 
to  the  hotel,  where  we  slept,  and  returned 
the  next  Tuesday  morning  on  the  three 
same  steeds. 

Meanwhile    my   business    was    still    un- 
transacted.      And  on  Saturday  morning,  I 


262  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  sent  down  and  arranged  with  Charlie 
Taylor  to  go  down  that  afternoon.  I  had 
scarce  got  the  saddle  bags  fixed  and  had 
not  yet  mounted,  when  the  rain  began. 
But  it  was  no  use  delaying  now ;  off  I 
went  in  a  wild  waterspout  to  Apia;  found 
Charlie  (Sale)  Taylor  —  a  sesquipedalian 
young  half-caste  —  not  yet  ready,  had  a 
snack  of  bread  and  cheese  at  the  hotel 
while  waiting  him,  and  then  off  to  Malie. 
It  rained  all  the  way,  seven  miles;  the 
road,  which  begins  in  triumph,  dwindles 
down  to  a  nasty,  boggy,  rocky  footpath 
with  weeds  up  to  a  horseman's  knees;  and 
there  are  eight  pig  fences  to  jump,  nasty 
beastly  jumps  —  the  next  morning  we  found 
one  all  messed  with  blood  where  a  horse 
had  come  to  grief  —  but  my  Jack  is  a  clever 
fencer;  and  altogether  we  made  good  time, 
and  got  to  Malie  about  dark.  It  is  a 
village  of  very  fine  native  houses,  high, 
domed,  oval  buildings,  open  at  the  sides, 
or  only  closed  with  slatted  Venetians.  To 
be  sure,  Mataafa's  is  not  the  worst.  It 


VAILIMA    LETTERS.  263 

was  already  quite  dark  within,  only  a  little  1892 
fire  of  cocoa-shell  blazed  in  the  midst  and 
showed  us  four  servants;  the  chief  was  in 
his  chapel,  whence  we  heard  the  sound  of 
chaunting.  Presently  he  returned;  Taylor 
and  I  had  our  soaking  clothes  changed, 
family  worship  was  held,  kava  brewed,  I 
was  exhibited  to  the  chiefs  as  a  man  who 
had  ridden  through  all  that  rain  and  risked 
deportation  to  serve  their  master;  they 
were  bidden  learn  my  face,  and  remember 
upon  all  occasions  to  help  and  serve  me. 
Then  dinner,  and  politics,  and  fine  speeches 
until  twelve  at  night  —  Oh,  and  some  more 
kava  —  when  I  could  sit  up  no  longer;  my 
usual  bed-time  is  eight,  you  must  remem- 
ber. Then  one  end  of  the  house  was 
screened  off  for  me  alone,  and  a  bed  made 
—  you  never  saw  such  a  couch  —  I  believe 
of  nearly  fifty  (half  at  least)  fine  mats,  by 
Mataafa's  daughter,  Kalala.  Here  I  re- 
posed alone;  and  on  the  other  side  of  the 
tafa,  Majesty  and  his  household.  Armed 
guards  and  a  drummer  patrolled  about  the 


264  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1892  house  all  night ;  they  had  no  shift,  poor 
devils;  but  stood  to  arms  from  sun-down 
to  sun-up. 

About  four  in  the  morning,  I  was  awak- 
ened by  the  sound  of  a  whistle  pipe  blown 
outside  on  the  dark,  very  softly  and  to  a 
pleasing  simple  air;  I  really  think  I  have 
hit  the  first  phrase : 

Andante  tranqnillo. 


S-v? 


It  sounded  very  peaceful,  sweet  and  strange 
in  the  dark;  and  I  found  this  was  a  part  of 
the  routine  of  my  rebel's  night,  and  it  was 
done  (he  said)  to  give  good  dreams.  By  a 
little  before  six,  Taylor  and  I  were  in  the 
saddle  again  fasting.  My  riding  boots 
were  so  wet  I  could  not  get  them  on,  so  I 
must  ride  barefoot.  The  morning  was  fair 
but  the  roads  very  muddy,  the  weeds  soaked 
us  nearly  to  the  waist,  Sale  was  twice  spilt 
at  the  fences,  and  we  got  to  Apia  a  be- 
draggled enough  pair.  All  the  way  along 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  265 

the  coast,  the  pate  (small  wooden  drum)  was  1892 
beating  in  the  villages  and  the  people 
crowding  to  the  churches  in  their  fine 
clothes.  Thence  through  the  mangrove 
swamp,  among  the  black  mud  and  the 
green  mangroves,  and  the  black  and  scarlet 
crabs,  to  Mulinuu,  to  the  doctor's,  where 
I  had  an  errand,  and  so  to  the  inn  to  break- 
fast about  nine.  After  breakfast  I  rode 
home.  Conceive  such  an  outing,  remem- 
ber the  pallid  brute  that  lived  in  Skerryvore 
like  a  weevil  in  a  biscuit,  and  receive  the 
intelligence  that  I  was  rather  the  better 
for  my  journey.  Twenty  miles  ride,  six- 
teen fences  taken,  ten  of  the  miles  in  a 
drenching  rain,  seven  of  them  fasting  and 
in  the  morning  chill,  and  six  stricken 
hours'  political  discussions  by  an  inter- 
preter; to  say  nothing  of  sleeping  in 
a  native  house,  at  which  many  of  our 
excellent  literati  would  look  askance  of 
itself. 

You  are  to  understand:  if  I  take  all  this 
bother,  it  is  not  only  from  a  sense  of  duty, 


266  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

l892  or  a  love  of  meddling  —  damn  the  phrase, 
take  your  choice  —  but  from  a  great  affec- 
tion for  Mataafa.  He  is  a  beautiful,  sweet 
old  fellow,  and  he  and  I  grew  quite  ful- 
some on  Saturday  night  about  our  senti- 
ments. I  had  a  messenger  from  him  to-day 
with  a  flannel  undershirt  which  I  had  left 
behind  like  a  gibbering  idiot;  and  per- 
petrated in  reply  another  baboo  letter.  It 
rains  again  to-day  without  mercy;  blessed, 
welcome  rains,  making  up  for  the  paucity 
of  the  late  wet  season ;  and  when  the 
showers  slacken,  I  can  hear  my  stream 
roaring  in  the  hollow,  and  tell  myself  that 
the  cacaos  are  drinking  deep.  I  am  desper- 
ately hunted  to  finish  my  Samoa  book 
before  the  mail  goes;  this  last  chapter  is 
equally  delicate  and  necessary.  The 
prayers  of  the  congregation  are  requested. 
Eheu!  and  it  will  be  ended  before  this 
letter  leaves  and  printed  in  the  States 
ere  you  can  read  this  scribble.  The  first 
dinner  gong  has  sounded  \  je  vous  salue, 
monsieur  et  cher  confrere.  To/a,  soifua! 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  267 

Sleep!  long  life!  as  our  Samoan  salutation    1892 
of  farewell  runs. 

Friday,  May  13^ 'h. 

Well ;  the  last  chapter,  by  far  the  most 
difficult  and  ungrateful,  is  well  under  way, 
I  have  been  from  six  to  seven  hours  upon 
it  daily  since  I  last  wrote;  and  that  is  all  I 
have  done  forbye  working  at  Samoan  rather 
hard,  and  going  down  on  Wednesday  even- 
ing to  the  club.  I  make  some  progress 
now  at  the  language;  I  am  teaching  Belle, 
which  clears  and  exercises  myself.  I  am 
particularly  taken  with  the  finesse  of  the 
pronouns.  The  pronouns  are  all  dual  and 
plural  and  the  first  person,  both  in  the 
dual  and  plural,  has  a  special  exclusive  and 
inclusive  form.  You  can  conceive  what 
fine  effects  of  precision  and  distinction 
can  be  reached  in  certain  cases.  Take 
Ruth,  i,  vv.  8  to  13,  and  imagine  how 
those  pronouns  come  in;  it  is  exquisitely 
elegant,  and  makes  the  mouth  of  the 
litterateur  to  water.  I  am  going  to  exer- 
citate  my  pupil  over  those  verses  to-day  for 
pronoun  practice. 


268  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 


Tuesday. 


1892  Yesterday  came  yours.  Well,  well,  if 
the  dears  prefer  a  week,  why,  I  '11  give 
them  ten  days,  but  the  real  document, 
from  which  I  have  scarcely  varied,  ran  for 
one  night.1  I  think  you  seem  scarcely 
fair  to  Wiltshire,  who  had  surely,  under 
his  beast -ignorant  ways,  right  noble  quali- 
ties. And  I  think  perhaps  you  scarce  do 
justice  to  the  fact  that  this  is  a  place  of 
realism  a  entrance;  nothing  extenuated  or 
coloured.  Looked  at  so,  is  it  not,  with  all 
its  tragic  features,  wonderfully  idyllic, 
with  great  beauty  of  scene  and  circum- 
stance? And  will  you  please  to  observe 
that  almost  all  that  is  ugly  is  in  the 
whites?  I  '11  apologize  for  Papa  Randal  if 
you  like;  but  if  I  told  you  the  whole  truth 
—  for  I  did  extenuate  there!  —  and  he 
seemed  to  me  essential  as  a  figure,  and 
essential  as  a  pawn  in  the  game,  Wiltshire's 
disgust  for  him  being  one  of  the  small, 

1  Referring  to  the  marriage  contract  in  the  Beach  of 
Falesd :  see  above,  Letter  xv. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  269 

efficient  motives  in  the  story.  Now  it  1892 
would  have  taken  a  fairish  dose  to  disgust  May 
Wiltshire.  —Again,  the  idea  of  publishing 

the    Beach    substantivoly    is    dropped at 

once,  both  on  account  of  expostulation, 
and.  because  it  measured  shorter  than  I  had 
expected.  And  it  was  only  taken  up, 
when  the  proposed  volume,  Beach  dc  Mar, 
petered  out.  It  petered  out  thus :  the  chief 
of  the  short  stories  got  sucked  into  Sophia 
Scarlet —  and  Sophia  is  a  book  I  am  much 
taken  with,  and  mean  to  get  to,  as  soon  as 
—  but  not  before  —  I  have  done  David 
Balfour  and  TJic  Young  Chevalier.  So  you 
see  you  are  like  to  hear  no  more  of  the 
Pacific  or  the  nineteenth  century  for  a 
while.  Tlic  Young  Chevalier  is  a  story  of 
sentiment  and  passion,  which  I  mean  to 
write  a  little  differently  from  what  I  have 
been  doing — if  I  can  hit  the  key;  rather 
more  of  a  sentimental  tremolo  to  it.  It 
may  thus  help  to  prepare  me  for  Sophia, 
which  is  to  contain  three  ladies,  and  a  kind 
of  a  love  affair  between  the  heroine  and  a 


270  VAILIMA  LETTERS. 

1892   dying  planter  who  is  a  poet!  large  orders 
7   forR.    L.   S. 

Oh,  the  German  taboo  is  quite  over;  no 
soul  attempts  to  support  the  C.  J.  or  the 
President,  they  are  past  hope;  the  whites 
have  just  refused  their  taxes  —  I  mean  the 
council  has  refused  to  call  for  them,  and  if 
the  council  consented,  nobody  would  pay; 
't  is  a  farce,  and  the  curtain  is  going  to  fall 
briefly.  Consequently  in  my  History,  I 
say  as  little  as  may  be  of  the  two  dwindling 
stars.  Poor  devils!  I  liked  the  one,  and 
the  other  has  a  little  wife,  now  lying  in ! 
There  was  no  man  born  with  so  little  ani- 
mosity as  I.  When  I  heard  the  C.  J.  was 
in  low  spirits  and  never  left  his  house,  I 
could  scarce  refrain  from  going  to  him. 

It  was  a  fine  feeling  to  have  finished  the 
History;  there  ought  to  be  a  future  state 
to  reward  that  grind  !  It  's  not  literature, 
you  know;  only  journalism,  and  pedantic 
journalism.  I  had  but  the  one  desire,  to 
get  the  thing  as  right  as  might  be,  and 
avoid  false  concords  —  even  if  that !  And 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  2/1 

it  was  more  than  there  was  time  for.  l892 
However,  there  it  is  :  done.  And  if  Samoa 
turns  up  again,  my  book  has  to  be  counted 
with,  being  the  only  narrative  extant. 
Milton  and  I  —  if  you  kindly  excuse  the 
juxtaposition  —  harnessed  ourselves  to 
strange  waggons,  and  I  at  least  will  be 
found  to  have  plodded  very  soberly  with 
my  load.  There  is  not  even  a  good  sen- 
tence in  it,  but  perhaps  —  I  don't  know  — 
it  may  be  found  an  honest,  clear  volume. 

Wednesday. 

Never  got  a  word  set  down,  and  continues 
on  Thursday  iQth  May,  his  own  marriage 
clay  as  ever  was.  News ;  yes.  The  C.  J. 
came  up  to  call  on  us !  After  five  months' 
cessation  on  my  side,  and  a  decidedly  pain- 
ful interchange  of  letters,  I  could  not  go 
down  —  could  not  —  to  see  him.  My  three 
ladies  received  him,  however;  he  was  very 
agreeable  as  usual,  but  refused  wine,  beer, 
water,  lemonade,  chocolate  and  at  last  a 
cigarette.  Then  my  wife  asked  him,  "So 


2/2  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  you  refuse  to  break  bread  ?  "  and  he  waved 
y  his  hands  amiably  in  answer.  All  my 
three  ladies  received  the  same  impression 
that  he  had  serious  matters  in  his  mind: 
now  we  hear  he  is  quite  cock-a-hoop  since 
the  mail  came,  and  going  about  as  before 
his  troubles  darkened.  But  what  did  he 
want  with  me?  'T  is  thought  he  had  re- 
ceived a  despatch  —  and  that  he  misreads 
it  (so  we  fully  believe)  to  the  effect  that 
they  are  to  have  war  ships  at  command  and 
can  make  their  little  war  after  all.  If  it 
be  so,  and  they  do  it,  it  will  be  the  meanest 
wanton  slaughter  of  poor  men  for  the 
salaries  of  two  white  failures.  But  what 
was  his  errand  with  me  ?  Perhaps  to  warn 
me  that  unless  I  behave  he  now  hopes  to 
be  able  to  pack  me  off  in  the  Curaqoa  when 
she  comes. 

I  have  celebrated  my  holiday  from  Samoa 
by  a  plunge  at  the  beginning  of  The  Young 
Chevalier.  I  am  afraid  my  touch  is  a  little 
broad  in  a  love  story;  I  can't  mean  one 
thing  and  write  another.  As  for  women, 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  273 

I  am  no  more  in  any  fear  of  them ;  I  can  1892 
do  a  sort  all  right ;  age  makes  me  less 
afraid  of  a  petticoat,  but  I  am  a  little  in 
fear  of  grossness.  However,  this  David 
Balfour's  love  affair,  that's  all  right  — 
might  be  read  out  to  a  mother's  meeting 
—  or  a  daughter's  meeting.  The  difficulty 
in  a  love  yarn,  which  dwells  at  all  on  love, 
is  the  dwelling  on  one  string;  it  is  mani- 
fold, I  grant,  but  the  root  fact  is  there 
unchanged,  and  the  sentiment  being  very 
intense,  and  already  very  much  handled  in 
letters,  positively  calls  for  a  little  pawing 
and  gracing.  With  a  writer  of  my  prosaic 
literalness  and  pertinency  of  point  of  view, 
this  all  shoves  toward  grossness  —  posi- 
tively even  towards  the  far  more  damnable 
closeness.  This  has  kept  me  off  the  senti- 
ment hitherto,  and  now  I  am  to  try :  Lord ! 
Of  course  Meredith  can  do  it,  and  so  could 
Shakespeare;  but  with  all  my  romance,  I 
am  a  realist  and  a  prosaist,  and  a  most 
fanatical  lover  of  plain  physical  sensations 
plainly  and  expressly  rendered ;  hence  my 

VOL.  I.  —  l8 


2/4  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  perils.  To  do  love  in  the  same  spirit  as  I 
VIay  did  (for  instance)  D.  Balfour's  fatigue  in 
the  heather;  my  dear  sir,  there  were  gross- 
ness  —  ready  made !  And  hence,  how  to 
sugar?  However,  I  have  nearly  done  with 
Marie-Madeleine,  and  am  in  good  hopes  of 
Marie-Salome,  the  real  heroine,  the  other 
is  only  a  prologuial  heroine  to  introduce 
the  hero. 

Friday. 

Anyway,  the  first  prologuial  episode  is 
done,  and  Fanny  likes  it.  There  are  only 
four  characters;  Francis  Blair  of  Balmile 
(Jacobite  Lord  Gladsmuir)  my  hero;  the 
Master  of  Ballantrae ;  Paradon,  a  wine- 
seller  of  Avignon;  Marie-Madeleine  his 
wife.  These  two  last  I  am  now  done  with, 
and  I  think  they  are  successful,  and  I  hope 
I  have  Balmile  on  his  feet;  and  the  style 
seems  to  be  found.  It  is  a  little  charged 
and  violent;  sins  on  the  side  of  violence; 
but  I  think  will  carry  the  tale.  I  think  it 
is  a  good  idea  so  to  introduce  my  hero, 
being  made  love  to  by  an  episodic  woman. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  275 

This  queer  tale  —  I  mean  queer  for  me  —  1892 
has  taken  a  great  hold  upon  me.  Where 
the  devil  shall  I  go  next?  This  is  simply 
the  tale  of  a  coup  dc  tetc  of  a  young  man 
and  a  young  woman ;  with  a  nearly,  per- 
haps a  wholly,  tragic  sequel,  which  I  desire 
to  make  thinkable  right  through,  and  sen- 
sible; to  make  the  reader,  as  far  as  I  shall 
be  able,  eat  and  drink  and  breathe  it. 
Marie-Salome  des  Saintes-Maries  is,  I 
think,  the  heroine's  name;  she  has  got  to 
be  yet :  sursum  corda!  So  has  the  young 
Chevalier,  whom  I  have  not  yet  touched, 
and  who  comes  next  in  order.  Characters : 
Balmile,  or  Lord  Gladsmuir,  comme  vous 
vonlcz;  Prince  Charlie;  Earl  Marischal ; 
Master  of  Ballantrae;  and  a  spy,  and  Dr. 
Archie  Campbell,  and  a  few  nondescripts; 
then,  of  women,  Marie-Salome  and  Flora 
Blair;  seven  at  the  outside;  really  four  full 
lengths,  and  I  suppose  a  half-dozen  episodic 
profiles.  How  I  must  bore  you  with  these 
ineptitudes!  Have  patience.  I  am  going 
to  bed;  it  is  (of  all  hours)  eleven.  I  have 


2/6  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892  been  forced  in  (since  I  began  to  write  to 
you)  to  blatter  to  Fanny  on  the  subject  of 
my  heroine,  there  being  two  cruces  as  to 
her  life  and  history:  how  came  she  alone? 
and  how  far  did  she  go  with  the  Chevalier? 
The  second  must  answer  itself  when  I  get 
near  enough  to  see.  The  first  is  a  back- 
breaker.  Yet  I  know  there  are  many 
reasons  why  a  fille  de  famille,  romantic, 
adventurous,  ambitious,  innocent  of  the 
world,  might  run  from  her  home  in  these 
days;  might  she  not  have  been  threatened 
with  a  convent?  might  there  not  be  some 
Huguenot  business  mixed  in?  Here  am  I, 
far  from  books ;  if  you  can  help  me  with  a 
suggestion,  I  shall  say  God  bless  you. 
She  has  to  be  new  run  away  from  a  strict 
family,  well-justified  in  her  own  wild  but 
honest  eyes,  and  meeting  these  three  men, 
Charles  Edward,  Marischal,  and  Balmile, 
through  the  accident  of  a  fire  at  an  inn. 
She  must  not  run  from  a  marriage,  I  think ; 
it  would  bring  her  in  the  wrong  frame  of 
mind.  Once  I  can  get  her,  sola,  on  the 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  277 

highway,  all  were  well  with  my  narrative.    1892 
Perpend.     And  help  if  you  can. 

Lafaele,  long  (I  hope)  familiar  to  you, 
has  this  day  received  the  visit  of  his  son 
from  Tonga;  and  the  son  proves  to  be  a 
very  pretty,  attractive  young  daughter !  I 
gave  all  the  boys  kava  in  honour  of  her 
arrival;  along  with  a  lean,  side-whiskered 
Tongan,  dimly  supposed  to  be  Lafaele's 
step-father;  and  they  have  been  having  a 
good  time;  in  the  end  of  my  verandah,  I 
hear  Simi,  my  present  incapable  steward, 
talking  Tongan  with  the  nondescript  papa. 
Simi,  our  out-door  boy,  burst  a  succession 
of  blood-vessels  over  our  work,  and  I  had 
to  make  a  position  for  the  wreck  of  one  of 
the  noblest  figures  of  a  man  I  ever  saw.  I 
believe  I  may  have  mentioned  the  other 
day  how  I  had  to  put  my  horse  to  the  trot, 
the  canter  and  (at  last)  the  gallop  to  run 
him  clown.  In  a  photograph  I  hope  to 
send  you  (perhaps  with  this)  you  will  see 
Simi  standing  in  the  verandah  in  profile. 
As  a  steward,  one  of  his  chief  points  is  to 


278  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

i892  break  crystal;  he  is  great  on  fracture  — 
what  do  I  say  ?  —  explosion !  He  cleans  a 
glass,  and  the  shards  scatter  like  a  comet's 
bowels. 

N.  B.  —  If  I  should  by  any  chance  be 
deported,  the  first  of  the  rules  hung  up  for 
that  occasion  is  to  communicate  with  you 
by  telegraph.  —  Mind,  I  do  not  fear  it,  but 
it  is  possible. 

Monday  2$tA. 

We  have  had  a  devil  of  a  morning  of 
upset  and  bustle;  the  bronze  candlestick 
Faauma  has  returned  to  the  family,  in  time 
to  take  her  position  of  stepmamma,  and  it 
is  pretty  to  see  how  the  child  is  at  once  at 
home,  and  all  her  terrors  ended. 

2"]th.    Mail  day. 

And  I  don't  know  that  I  have  much  to 
report.  I  may  have  to  leave  for  Malie  as 
soon  as  these  mail  packets  are  made  up. 
'T  is  a  necessity  (if  it  be  one)  I  rather 
deplore.  I  think  I  should  have  liked  to 
lazy;  but  I  dare  say  all  it  means  is  the 


VAILIMA   LETTERS. 


279 


May 


delay  of  a  day  or  so  in  harking  back  to  1892 
David  Balfour;  that  respectable  youth 
chides  at  being  left  (where  he  is  now)  in 
Glasgow  with  the  Lord  Advocate,  and  after 
five  years  in  the  British  Linen,  who  shall 
blame  him?  I  was  all  forenoon  yesterday 
down  in  Apia,  dictating,  and  Lloyd  type- 
writing, the  conclusion  of  Samoa;  and 
then  at  home  correcting  till  the  dinner 
bell ;  and  in  the  evening  again  till  eleven 
of  the  clock.  This  morning  I  have  made 
up  most  of  my  packets,  and  I  think  my 
mail  is  all  ready  but  two  more,  and  the  tag 
of  this.  I  would  never  deny  (as  D.  B. 
might  say)  that  I  was  rather  tired  of  it. 
But  I  have  a  damned  good  dose  of  the  devil 
in  my  pipe-stem  atomy;  I  have  had  my 
little  holiday  outing  in  my  kick  at  The 
Young  Chevalier,  and  I  guess  I  can  settle 
to  David  Balfour  to-morrow  or  Friday  like 
a  little  man.  I  wonder  if  any  one  had  ever 
more  energy  upon  so  little  strength?  —  I 
know  there  is  a  frost ;  the  Samoa  book  can 
only  increase  that  —  I  can't  help  it,  that 


280  VAILIMA   LETTERS. 

1892   book   is  not  written  for  me  but  for  Miss 

May 

Manners;  but  I  mean  to  break  that  frost 
inside  two  years,  and  pull  off  a  big  success, 
and  Vanity  whispers  in  my  ear  that  I  have 
the  strength.  If  I  haven't,  whistle  ower 
the  lave  o't!  I  can  do  without  glory,  and 
perhaps  the  time  is  not  far  off  when  I 
can  do  without  corn.  It  is  a  time  coming 
soon  enough,  anyway;  and  I  have  endured 
some  two  and  forty  years  without  public 
shame,  and  had  a  good  time  as  I  did  it. 
If  only  I  could  secure  a  violent  death, 
what  a  fine  success!  I  wish  to  die  in 
my  boots;  no  more  Land  of  Counterpane 
for  me.  To  be  drowned,  to  be  shot,  to  be 
thrown  from  a  horse  —  ay,  to  be  hanged, 
rather  than  pass  again  through  that  slow 
dissolution. 

I  fancy  this  gloomy  ramble  is  caused  by 
a  twinge  of  age;  I  put  on  an  under-shirt 
yesterday  (it  was  the  only  one  I  could  find) 
that  barely  came  under  my  trousers ;  and 
just  below  it,  a  fine  healthy  rheumatism 
has  now  settled  like  a  fire  in  my  hip. 


VAILIMA   LETTERS.  28 1 

From  such  small  causes  do  these  valuable    1892 
considerations  flow ! 

I  shall  now  say  adieu,  dear  Sir,  having 
ten  rugged  miles  before  me  and  the  horrors 
of  a  native  feast  and  parliament  without  an 
interpreter,  for  to-day  I  go  alone. 
Yours  ever, 

R.   L.   S. 


END   OF  VOL.   I. 


A    000  005  422 


